Dean and the Nephilim
by Tridacnagigas
Summary: Takes place immediately after S12: how the boys raise Jack and get their family back from various other dimensions.
1. Part 1

Dedicated to Netflix, and how I will only watch a season of Supernatural once it puts all of it up, because I hate waiting. I started writing this to tide me over until S13 went up, but I've been working on it so long that S14 is now out. Still haven't seen S13.

Dedicated to Destiel, eventually. I promise it's not just angsting, it just starts that way. It gets better.

* * *

Holy shit. Holy shit. _Holy shit._

I'd known things were going to get messy in the final battle against Lucifer, but we had just lost _everyone_. Literally _everyone_ on our side. _Gone_. If not dead, then vanished and completely inaccessible. Our mom was trapped with Lucifer and Crowley's vacated meatsack in that mirror-world hellscape, Kelly was most definitely dead by now, and Cas …

 _Cas._

I forced my gaze down to the body sprawled on the cold dirt, the fall of his coat echoing the burned outlines of his deteriorated wings. He deserved my attention now, after everything he'd done for everyone beside himself.

For years I had leaned on him without realizing it, letting him absorb some of my self-hatred without noticing that he was keeping it for himself, hoarding it like bricks until they drowned him in his own lack of worth.

A hole opened up in my gut and blinding pain swirled out, dropping me to my knees at his side. I let my head droop until our foreheads were pressed together, his cooling skin stark against my sudden fever as all the world around me faded out. Wave after wave of hot, guilty ache pulsed from my core.

This man, more human than most humans I had met, had been more of a mother to me than the woman who had actually given birth to me. She, after all, had followed the course of nature, miracle of life and all that, carrying me but not doing any of the fine detail work. Cas had rebuilt me, molecule by molecule, patching the cavernous cracks in my soul with his grace until his essence became as tattered as the trenchcoat he'd abandoned when he'd traded up for Leviathan power.

And then I'd pulled myself out of my grave like exiting a womb, and he'd turned away from the comrades he'd obeyed unquestioningly for untold millennia to join us. And we'd fought back the tides of darkness together, over and over, Team Free Will. Sam and I hadn't really had a choice, but Cas … Cas had. He'd chosen us. He'd chosen _me._

He'd set himself against his family, he'd become family to us instead, and I'd taken him for granted, and now he was gone.

The deep ache inside me cut deeper and deeper until I couldn't stand it any longer. I sat back on my heels, threw my head back, and screamed and screamed and screamed, until my voice was hoarse and my throat burned like the fires of Hell, which isn't a description I use lightly.

Only then could I start pushing it all back down, cramming it back inside, hiding from _feelings_ like I'd always been taught. _Thanks, Dad_.

I took deep breath after deep breath, compressing the ache until it was an emptiness that throbbed in my gut. Into that stillness, the only voice that still mattered in this world hit my ears like a siren song, drifting out of one of the cabin's open windows.

"Dean?"

 _Fuck, Sam._ I'd bailed on him and the newborn Antichrist, left him alone at a turning point in the entire world's history so that I could wallow. _Nicely done as usual, Dean._

Dragging myself back to my feet by sheer force of will, I ignored the emptiness and tried to analyze what Sam's tone had been as I put one foot in front of the other. Who the hell knew what I would find in that house? For sure, Kelly was dead. What had she wanted to name the kid? Ah, right. _Jack_.

I put a hand on the doorknob, listening as hard as I could, but there was only silence now. The knob turned easily in my hand, and I eased my head inside, still straining against the thick hush of the living room.

 _There!_ A low murmur, Sam's voice rising and falling, calming, from the direction of the kitchen. My gun slid into my hand like an old friend, and I crept up the hallway, the sound of my brother an invisible thread that tugged me onward even though I wanted nothing more than to lie down and give the fuck up. What the hell were _we_ going to do with a baby?

What twisted fucking universe had given a _baby_ to Sam and Dean Winchester? This was supposed to be Cas's job, he had promised, he had believed in this kid, even more than he had believed in me, which was saying something. He had killed a Chuck-damn reaper for us, Cosmic Consequences be damned, and now he was gone ( _not now,_ I told the throbbing emptiness), and Sam and I had to raise an actual child.

Who might or might not try to kill us immediately, and then go on to destroy the world.

I was approaching the doorless archway that led into the kitchen. Reassured by Sam's continued murmuring, I pressed my back to the wall and I took an extra second to assess.

"My brother Dean will be here soon. You'll like him, he's a good man. Neither of us would ever do anything to hurt you. We only want to help. I swear to you, we don't blame you for your father's crimes. You are an innocent, there is no crime in simply existing. Let's just take it nice and easy, no rush, no pressure, just relax."

His voice was coming from floor-level, like he was sitting on the ground. Probably shouldn't make him a liar right off the bat. My gun slid back into my waistband at the small of my back, and then I took a knee as well.

"Sam?" I called gently, easily, trying to take on his tone of calm reassurance.

His voice stopped.

I put my hands around the archway, letting the kitchen light wash over their emptiness. When they weren't smited, I followed them with my head, easing into a crouch in the doorway.

* * *

My first reaction was a sort of hysterical relief.

"This the kid, Sammy?"

My brother was sitting on the floor, an arm over the shoulders of a naked man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties. The man looked up at me with burning eyes. His hair hung around his face, lank and sweaty, and he looked gaunt and pale, as if he'd been locked inside a small room for several months – which, I suppose, was technically true.

I froze, hands still awkwardly raised, pinned by that burning gaze.

"Yeah," my brother said. "Dean, this is Jack. Jack, my brother, Dean."

"Nice to meet you," I told him, the words feeling absurd even as they left my mouth. This was a being of unimaginable power. Yeah, I guess I could say it was nice to meet him. He's only about ten minutes old, did he even know about manners?

"Hello, Dean." The words themselves blindsided me – I was accustomed to hearing them from a certain someone – but they were delivered in a pleasant tenor, and the absence of a gravelly baritone helped me claw my way back out of the sucking abyss in my center.

I took a seat on the floor as well, close enough that Jack could reach over and touch me if he wanted but far enough to appear (hopefully) non-threatening. My hands lay flat on my thighs, far away from any weapons.

"Dean, can he search your memories? He looked at mine, and it helped him center himself a bit. It's barely noticeable."

I looked over at my brother. After sharing our entire lives, we could read each other like books (which made it so Chucking shocking that we kept getting away with lying to each other over and over). He was honestly in support of the idea, I could tell, so I shrugged and nodded.

"What do I need to do?"

Jack shifted forward, stretching a hand toward my forehead. "Just hold still, please. I'm new at this – well, I'm kind of new at everything, to be honest – but I didn't melt Sam's brain, so you should be fine."

He joked like someone unused to joking, like Cas had started to do after a decade of off-color, gallows-humor Winchester witticisms.

"Wait, brain-melting was a possibility?" Sam asked, shocked, and I grinned viciously at him as Jack's baby-soft, uncalloused fingers met my skin.

Science fiction tropes had me expecting to drown in waves of my own recollections, but Sam had been right: it was barely noticeable unless I focused on it.

Jack's burning eyes slid shut, and he breathed in and out. I was on the kitchen floor of a cabin in the woods where the President's mistress had just given birth to the son of Chuck's biggest mistake, but I was also, if I focused, holding Sam while Dad went back into our doomed house to try to save Mom, and then I was making sure that Sam ate all his cereal while we sat huddled in a cold hotel room, and then I was watching, as helpless to change the outcome this time as I had been when it had happened, as Sam and Dad had their final screaming match and he stormed out of our lives, off to college, and I was so proud and so desperately jealous of him simultaneously, and then Dad and I were riding through a warm summer night in Baby, him lecturing me on the best ways to deal with wendigos.

Then came Sam and Jess, our first hunt together in years, Sam losing Jess just like we'd lost Mom, and then the whole parade of _The Winchesters vs. Evil_ , everyone we'd loved and lost over the past decade or so, Lisa and Ben, Bobby and Ellen and Jo, Kevin and Charlie, and a host of other faces. When he got to my stay in Hell, I zoned back into the kitchen. I would happily eat a plateful of glass and wash it down with a nice chaser of sulfuric acid if it meant never having to think about that place – and what I'd done there – ever again.

The absurdity of the situation made me smile again, as Jack's fingers stayed pressed to my forehead. First thing after this guy relaxed into trusting us, we were getting him some damn clothes. Top fucking priority. I met Sam's eyes, and he shrugged. Apparently I just had to wait this out.

After another minute or so, Jack let out a soft sigh and sat back, fingers dropping to his side.

"All good, kid?" I asked him.

Sam made a scoffing noise, the one he'd been perfecting over our years together to showcase his astonishment that I could say such things at exactly the wrong time. I always ignored it; I loved my brother, but that didn't mean I didn't still want to slap his Bitchface whenever he pulled it.

Apparently not having gotten the _ignore him_ memo, Jack made a spluttering sound. "He did it! He made the noise!"

Sam and I exchanged confused looks. Jack hurried to explain.

"In your memories, he made that noise, and that face, over and over! This is the first time I've experienced it with my own senses. It's…" he trailed off, then looked down, embarrassed. "It's just kind of neat, that's all."

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, no need to be ashamed of enjoying a new experience. Anyway, you're, like, twenty minutes old, so every experience is a new experience for you. There's no reason why you shouldn't have a childhood."

Jack turned his burning eyes up to Sam and held his gaze. "I saw what my father did to you when you were trapped with him, and I saw what your father did to both of your childhoods. Why should I get to enjoy myself when you've been through such misery?"

Sam didn't flinch. "Like I said, you're an innocent. Innocent until proven guilty."

I felt the need to change the subject. Who knew where an angst-spiral with a nephilim could drop us if we rode it all the way through?

"So, as a newborn, you're doin' pretty well with the whole … walking, talking, cognitive abilities thing, which babies are notoriously bad at. What level of development are we talkin' about here?"

Sam rolled his eyes at me, making Jack clap his hands ecstatically.

"The eye roll! Classic!"

Sam froze, just on the edge of blushing, which cracked me the hell up.

Jack turned back to me. "So you know how humans have souls, and angels have grace?"

Sam and I nodded in unison.

"Well, apparently – and this is based only on what I think I can feel, so don't hold me to it – I took some of my mother's soul and some of my father's grace, and made them into something of my own. This means I have Kelly's memories in the same way that I now have both of yours, and I have Lucifer's grace-memories, which seem to be stored a bit differently, as they cover a much longer time period. From these, I have a basic knowledge of human history and anatomy, though the intricacies of social interaction may take some practice to sharpen up."

He stopped, swallowed, looked at the floor, then glanced up at me through long eyelashes. "I also seem to have the grace-memories of the angel Castiel. I think he did it on purpose, but I'd have to sort through them all to know for sure."

An electric shock danced across my skin. _Cas_. Had he known? Had he known he was going to be taken from us? Had he known that the baby he was willing to die to protect wasn't going to be a baby for very long? Even at the very end, he was still trying to help, trying to counteract Lucifer's legacy with his own, a (former) lowly foot-soldier up against an archangel (also former).

Sam recovered first. "So. Jack. What would you like to do with your life?"

I held up a hand. "I vote clothes, and maybe actual chairs and some food for this discussion. It's important, wouldn't want you makin' any bad choices because you're naked and cold and sittin' on the cold hard ground."

Jack looked at me, expression unfathomable. I just shrugged. Jack turned back to Sam and nodded once. "I concur."

* * *

Kelly had stocked the kitchen well, for someone who had known she was going to die. Sam made pancakes.

"You never make pancakes back at the bunker," I accused. He started to roll his eyes, caught himself, glanced toward Jack – who was sitting at the kitchen table wearing a gray maternity tracksuit and watching us avidly – and cleared his throat instead.

"There aren't any newborns who've never tasted actual food with their actual mouths back at the bunker."

"You're really hypin' these pancakes, man. They better be worth it."

Jack jumped in before we could go too far down the sniping road. "He's right about the actually tasting with my actual mouth, though. All I have is your memories, and Dean – you _really_ like pancakes."

I thought about it as Sam dished up the steaming discs and slid a few different bottles of syrup onto the table in front of us. "Hmm. I'd like to see that, a highlight reel of all the pancakes I've known and loved. Would be a nice way to spend an afternoon."

I caught Sam pre-eye-roll again, and snickered at his discomfort. "Montage of scoffing, I'll pass on, though."

"What if we auto-tuned it?" Jack threw in.

I turned to gape at him. When he started to look uncomfortable, I hurried to add, "Dude, that's genius!"

Sam didn't hold back the eye-roll this time. "Eat your pancakes, asshats. We have a lot of stuff to talk about."

I poured some boysenberry syrup on top of my pile, saluted him with my fork and dug in. Mmmm, worth the hype. I wondered which of his buttons I could push to get these more often. Averting the apocalypse definitely counted, but there had to be less extreme measures.

I glanced at Jack, who was similarly engrossed. Eyes closed, his peaceful blissed-out expression disguised the fact that he could destroy us both, and several square miles along with us, with a single thought.

Sam, looking proud of himself, drizzled some maple onto his and took dainty bites. _Bitch_ , I thought fondly.

 _He'd probably made these for Jess._ I was suddenly reminded of what he could have had if our lives had been different. Lazy Sunday mornings, waking up tangled in each other, no classes to worry about, him bringing her breakfast in bed, all of that and more ripped from him in one horrible moment because of a shitty decision our mother had made _years_ before he was born.

Jack had stopped eating and was staring at me.

"Oh," I said, blinking at him. "Can you feel moods? That's awkward as hell."

Sam looked back and forth between us, lost. I waved him off and shoveled in more pancake.

Jack shrugged, digging back into his own plate but still glancing over at me. "I don't really know what I can do. I didn't even know I could do that. All I know is, I was eating pancakes, and having a great time, and I sort of sensed that you were eating pancakes, and having a great time, and then, you weren't having a great time any more."

"Yeah, we humans get struck with stray thoughts every now and then. You'll get used to it."

"Unless you don't," Sam threw in. "That's one of the things we need to talk about. How much of you is going to be human, and how much angel? Do you have healing powers? Do you even need to…" he gestured at the plates on the table, "you know, eat? Sleep? Breathe?"

Horrified, I stared at Jack. "When Cas powered back up, he said he missed the taste of food the way us lower life forms enjoyed it. All he could taste was the molecules, not the effect. I'd never heard anything so sad in my entire life, and you've seen the sad shit I've been through. You _are_ actually tastin' those, right?"

Jack smiled at me. "I think I'm getting both worlds. I can taste the molecules, yeah, but I can also taste how they interact. It's kind of mind-blowing, actually."

Sam beamed.

"As far as the other things go, I'm not really sure. I'm going to need to actually sit somewhere quiet and sort of…" he made a shrugging gesture with his fork arm, " _unpack_ the grace-memories to actually get any details out of them, but I get a general sense that as a species, nephilim have been pretty rare, and we've all been different."

"Like fictional vampires?" I asked.

Sam gaped at me. "What?" I asked defensively. "I read."

Jack nodded – he knew, he'd seen the books in my memories.

"I mean, like, there's the sparkly and the non-sparkly – shut up, Sammy, I didn't read those ones, I just heard about them – and there's the blood-drinkin' or not, the day-walkin' or not, the garlic-eatin' or reflectin'-in-mirrors kind or not, the sexy seducin' kind or the dead-and-rottin' kind, it all depends on who's writin' 'em. There's always the moment where they're explainin' how, yes, they're a vampire, to someone, and that person spouts off a common misconception, and they have to go, no, vampires aren't really like that, I'm actually like _this_."

Sam snorted, but Jack was nodding. "That's actually a pretty good comparison. I know Cas had to kill one when Metatron was using him, and I'm going to go over that bit when I get a chance, but I get the feeling she was nothing like me. She flew _way_ under the radar. No one in Heaven seemed to even know about her at all until Metatron led Castiel right to her."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched. "Are you saying that Heaven knows about you?" He dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. "Wait, are you tuned in to Angel Radio?"

I froze, turning to stare at Jack, mouth full of unchewed pancake.

Jack nodded. "If I focus. Otherwise it slips into static. Which is good, because they're all talking a lot, and it would get pretty distracting if I had to listen all the time."

"Can you broadcast, too, or just receive?" Sam asked. He waved his hands in the air quickly, trying to erase his words. "I don't mean try it now, they're probably pissed as hell and inclined to say mean things, I was just wondering."

Jack nodded. "I think it's a focus thing as well. I don't want to butt in unless I know what I'm going to say – I feel like a 'hi guys' wouldn't go over very well at the moment – but I'm pretty sure I can get through if I need to."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "That was a metaphor you used, by the way. ' _Flying under the radar.'_ Cas never quite got the hang of metaphors, it's interesting that you're taking to them so quickly. Good thing, too," he added, slanting a glance at me. "This one over here abuses them worse than Dr. McCoy from _Star Trek_."

"My mother was a PR flack for the president of the United States, and I have her soul. If there's anyone that got how to say one thing and have it mean something else, it was her. I think I can speak _Dean_ pretty well."

"Well, that's a relief," I said, mopping up the last of my syrup with my last bite of pancakes. "Maybe somebody will finally start appreciating my jokes."

"Don't hold your breath," Sam shot back. "You're doing dishes, by the way."

"You say that like I'm going to argue," I said. "Dude, you made friggin' _pancakes._ Take a load off, relax. I got this."

I picked up my plate, stood up from the table, and then a sort of shockwave ran through the room, and I got a weird feeling like the world had rearranged itself. The plate was gone from my hand, the table was cleared of dishes. I took a few steps to peek through the kitchen doorway, and the sink and stove were empty of pots or pans.

I looked back at Jack. If it had been my little brother, I would have just raised an eyebrow to imply my "what the fuck?," but I'd only known this kid for less than a day, so I had to say it out loud. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Jack wrung his hands. "I don't know! I just thought, it would be really great if the dishes were clean already, because I know we've got a lot to talk about and dish-washing seemed like such a time-suck, and then I felt sort of tingly all over, and then the dishes were gone."

I glanced over the kitchen one more time, looking for evidence of a fuck-up, the kind that usually accompanied people's first foray into the mystic arts, but everything looked tidy. Even the counters seemed to have been wiped clean. That had to have been Kelly's memories, because he sure as hell didn't get that from me or Sam.

I shrugged and turned back to the dining room. "I'm not gonna complain about _not_ having to wash the dishes. Before we get down to business, though, can I go take care of something?"

I got two pairs of confused eyes, but I waved and turned away, heading through the living room to the front door.

Cas – or, I guess, Jimmy Novak's body – was still there, sprawled on the cold gravel. I stood over him for a moment, a moment I knew was short in real time, but in my head I let it elongate into a millennium, trying to stretch time so that I could feel it like he had felt it, alive and conscious for all that time but only truly able to think and feel for himself for the blink of an eye in comparison. I'd known him a third of my life, nothing at all to him but he'd given everything for me.

I let the howling void consume me for a minute. Even with everything we needed to address around that table inside, he deserved this much. A human minute. When it was over, I stuffed everything back inside, knelt, and heaved him over my shoulder.

Hefting him, I staggered a bit from his unexpected lightness. He'd always been denser than a regular human; a person giving him a hand up after a fight took a risk of being pulled down to join him instead. But now, with his grace departed at last, he felt like he weighed nothing at all.

I carried him back into the house, up the stairs, and laid him gently on the bed next to Kelly. I gave her a minute as well. She'd earned it, too.

Then, I headed back down the stairs, where the confused eyes had turned painfully knowing. I ignored them both and sat back down in my seat. "So. Plans?"

Sam turned to Jack. "You're the innocent, here. Our job is to protect you, to help you find your way in the world until you can fend for yourself."

Jack frowned at us both. "After _everything_ you guys have been through, why is it still _your_ jobs? When do you get to stop?"

I shook my head. "Can't stop. If we stop, there's nothing. No hope of Heaven, no threat of Hell, just gray nothing. Forever. I'd prefer to be here on Earth, living, suffering, savin' people. Maybe, if we're really really good, they'll revoke our sentence. Let us go to Heaven to meet back up with everyone we've lost. If we stop now, there's _nothing_ waitin' for us. An eternity of complete void. We've been assured by a reliable source that there is no comin' back from it this time."

"Well, _she's_ not coming back, either," added Sam with a grin, "so there's that going for us."

Jack tilted his head. "So I'm your ticket into Heaven?"

"What?" I spluttered. "What? You- I- We- No. Just, no. That's not at all- I can't-"

Smiling, Jack waved a hand. "Relax, I've been in your head. I know you don't see the world like that. I'm a person to both of you, I know that. I'm just trying out this whole _'teasing'_ thing us humans do."

He made air quotes like Cas. Another small part of my insides tore off and fell into the swirling emptiness in my gut. _Not his fault_ , I reminded myself.

Jack's eyes turned to me, sensing my mood shift, but I waved him off. "Naw, man, that's on me. I can't go around gettin' upset every time someone uses finger quotes. It's the same for when, for the rest of my life, people are going to say, _Hello, Dean_ to me. It's gonna happen. It was a good joke."

Sam's eyes were warm and soft with understanding, and I wanted to throw up.

"Chick flick moment's over. Let's get to the point. Jack, you need to learn how to use your body, from experience, not just from other people's memories. People – and non-people – are going to come for you, and come hard, for the rest of your life – which might or might not be a very long time, depending on what your actual abilities are. Sam and I can help you build your strength, train you on weapons, teach you about how to get along as a human."

I sent a sardonic glance at my brother, and he grinned back. What the fuck did we know about getting along as humans? We lived in a goddamned _bunker_ , for Chuck's sake. One with amazing, cloud-like memory-foam mattresses, to be sure, but a bunker nonetheless. We'd blasted our way out of it with a grenade launcher only a month ago, just to prove _that_ point.

Jack was watching our wordless exchange, fascinated. "That," he said. "I want that. I want to be able to hold an entire conversation with someone without using words."

"That comes with familiarity," said Sam. "You'll get there."

Jack looked skeptical. "You saw what I did with the dishes. I'm going to be a shining beacon for all those people trying to kill me." His eyes widened. "Oh, no, I'm probably bringing them right to our door! They could be surrounding the house right now!"

He started to get to his feet, but Sam reached over and put a hand on his arm.

"Do you have so little faith in Cas and Kelly? I am absolutely certain that they warded this place. There is no place safer for you than right here. If you use enough power, you could probably blow the wards, and _then_ we'd have to vacate, but I have no doubt that if that happened, it would come with a warning of some sort. Cas and Kelly _believed_ in you. They gave their lives so that you would survive. They wouldn't bring you into the world just to let someone take you out so easily."

"Listen in on Angel Radio," I told him. "I know they're upset, and also total dicks, but if they knew where you were, do you think they'd be staying away?"

Jack paused a moment, his focus turning inward. Then, he shook his head. "They're at a loss, it seems. Making a lot of threats that involve 'if we find him.'"

Sam nodded sagely. "So we've got time. Dean and I can help you integrate, but you have to pick what you want to do. You look like you're in your early twenties, so you could go to college, or live like you already graduated, it's up to you where you want to jump in."

"One of us will stay here with you, to help train you, and the other one should go back to the bunker and hit the books. We're going to need a crapload of research if we're ever gonna give you the chance to walk free under the sun. Do you have a preference? No pressure, neither of us is going to get offended, no matter which way you pick."

Jack looked uncomfortable. After a pause, he said, "Dean, can you stay with me?" He turned to Sam, waving his arms. "Please, I just know from your memories that you actually _enjoy_ research, while Dean is always happier when he's got something physical to accomplish."

Sam nodded. "Dude, it's ok. I totally agree. I'll head back to the bunker in the morning."

Jack turned back to me. "Let's start with the getting to know my own body," he said. "I'm going to need to unpack the grace-memories I've got stuffed in my head, both Castiel's and my father's. They're going to change how I see things."

I exchanged an alarmed glance with my brother.

Jack saw it and nodded anyway. "I can't promise that Lucifer's memories won't alter me, but I know that I have both of you, and my mother, and Castiel, to fall back on. I doubt that just his memories can sway me entirely. My mother believed in me, so much so that I can still feel it burning in her soul. My soul, now. Castiel did, too. That's going to have to be enough."

"Just remember that every person has their own struggles," I said. "That's what Lucy always lost sight of. Thought he could squash humanity, faceless, as one huge unit, and he never stopped to think of the individuals he was wiping away forever."

Jack looked at me, thoughtful. "Thank you, Dean. I believe that will help."

* * *

Jack went upstairs to meditate, to reconcile the many and varied worldviews he contained within himself, and Sam and I bedded down for the night. We rock-paper-scissors'ed for the remaining bed – I lost, of course – and then I grabbed some blankets and pillows from an upstairs linen closet.

The house had three bedrooms, two upstairs and one downstairs. There were dead people taking up one of the upstairs beds, and a meditating and possibly mutating nephilim taking up the other one. I checked in on him on my way back down to the couch I'd claimed for the evening, mentioned how even if he wasn't planning on falling asleep, his ass cheeks certainly would if he insisted on sitting on the floor all night without a cushion, and then left him alone.

I met Sam in the hallway downstairs, and we exchanged worried glances. We were about to go to sleep in a house with a being of unimaginable power possibly turning into an even more powerful version of Lucifer just above our heads. But then, we were Winchesters. Beating the odds was kind of our thing, after all.

I spread the blankets on the couch, laid down, and was out like a goddamn light within seconds.

* * *

I woke up in the morning.

That in itself was kind of a relief.

I took a moment to reflect on the kind of life I led, such that the mere fact of waking up was a cause for celebration, then shrugged my shoulders into my couch-nest and moved on with my day.

Sam had awakened before me, taken Baby, and gone without saying goodbye. I texted him a single word, starting with a b, to let him know my feelings about that, but he was right. We were trying to lay low, and by now, every supernatural creature in the country should know the make and model of the Winchesters' car.

Wouldn't it be the worst case of irony, if our location was discovered because of my goddamn vanity? I'd make due with Cas's pimpmobile until I could locate and liberate something less conspicuous.

As I was standing in the doorway, looking out on the driveway that was very obviously missing a shiny, well-preserved Impala, another weird shiver ran through the fabric of space around me.

I spun and sprinted for the stairs without a second of hesitation. "Jack?" I yelled, thumping up them in my stockings, trying not to slip and crack my face open. "Jack, is everything ok?"

He was standing in the doorway of the other bedroom, the one hosting the people we'd lost. To my shock, he turned to me with a proud smile.

"I did a thing," he said. "Come and see."

I stepped around him. Kelly lay as she had last night, a little paler, a little more bloated, but Cas. Cas was sheathed in diamond.

A sparkling coffin encased him, rough for most of its length but clear as glass over his face. I had a thought, a niggling memory, of "teaching Sam to read." In reality, Sam had found out at about the age of ten, with me being fourteen or so, that schoolwork wasn't high on my priority list when he'd caught me struggling to go through a menu to pick out takeout for dinner.

Without saying anything to me or Dad, he'd suddenly become very insistent that I help him practice his reading skills. He'd picked easy books to start, books that I had been pretty sure he'd devoured multiple times already, but I'd been too pathetically grateful for the opportunity to mention that I knew.

Over the years, we'd gone through youth fiction, _Narnia,_ things like that, and somewhere during those backwards times where my brother had looked out for _me_ , we'd crossed _Eragon._

Dragons were fucking awesome. Dad would never let us have a pet, not even something small like a hamster or rat, but I swear, I never wanted anything more than like what Eragon had with Saphira.

That want had never really stopped. When I had found Cas – rather, when Cas has found me – I found my profound bond. It just hadn't occurred to me, what we had, until it was too late.

I stamped on the void, ignoring its whirlpool tug, and followed the memory back. In the books, when Eragon's mentor/father had died, Saphira had used her dragon magic to preserve him just like this. She hadn't known how she had done it – both she and Eragon were mostly untrained at the time – but he had been kind to them both and she had wanted to _keep_ him somehow.

I crept closer across the dim room, curtains closed against the morning light. Cas's face was so still and peaceful, with his dark hair tumbled roughly down over his forehead. I reached out, wanting to lay my palm flat across the clear window, wanting to be close to him again, my other half, but Jack's hand closed around my wrist before I could touch it.

I turned to him, concerned, but he just looked a complicated combination of sheepish and proud.

"So, part of this thing I did is that it will dissolve if it's touched by Castiel's grace."

My eyes widened, and I looked back down at the diamond coffin, and then back at Jack.

"So, you think…"

Jack shrugged. "He's come back before, so many times. Either my grandfather will help, or he'll find his own way back, or you and Sam will do it for him. I just wanted him to have something familiar to come back to when he gets here. This way, his body will be protected until he touches it, and then he can walk free."

I was speechless for a second, but then I wiggled the wrist still in Jack's slightly spindly grasp. "And this?"

Jack let go and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Um, yeah. Side effect that I didn't account for. I've been touched by Castiel's grace in a major way, and I'm technically still carrying a lot of it with me – or, if not the grace itself, at least a good enough approximation that the spell will be fooled. So are you, by the way, in all the patched-up places of your soul. Sam, too. I don't actually know how we're going to move him, when it's time for us to leave this place. Maybe wrap him in blankets and call a moving company?"

I placed a hand over my chest. The patched-up places of my soul. Yes, that sounded right. His loss had torn them open again, but Jack was right. He wasn't gone forever. Somehow, some day, we'd find our way back to each other.

For a brief moment, I considered that other universe on the other side of the golden glowing line ripped in the fabric of space-time by Jack's power. Bobby was there, alive and well, so it stood to reason that there might be another Cas, another Charlie, another Kevin.

Then I stomped on that as well. They might be there, but they wouldn't be _ours_. They wouldn't have shared our experiences.

"Thinking about MirrorVerse?" asked Jack.

"Damn, you're good," I replied, surprised.

He shrugged. "I think about it, too. Kelly believed that I could save the world, bring sunshine and happiness and rainbows to everyone, but she didn't know about the other worlds. What if, what Castiel saw, the peace I am destined to bring, isn't to this world at all? What if it's to that one?"

I shook my head, gaze dropping to his mother's still form. "Leave that other world to me and Sam. You just need to get yourself together, livin' the life you think you need to live. Sam and I will figure out how to get our mom back."

Jack looked startled. "You think Lucifer has let her live?"

"I'm certain of it. He knows we'll come for her, and he knows that if she isn't alive, then we're leaving and closin' the door behind us, forever. The only question for me and Sam to figure out is, how do we work that door?"

Jack wiggled his fingers at me. "I volunteer. No, really," he spoke over the protests I started to make, "after spending all that time going through all the information I have, I _know_ it's the right thing to do, and I _know_ I must do the right thing. I'd be happy to help you get your mom back."

His gaze dropped. "Can you help me send Kelly off properly? You and Sam have memories of hunter's funerals, maybe something like that?"

"Of course, man. We'll take care of it today."

He nodded gratefully. "Thank you. And I know that she recorded a few messages for me to listen to, so I want to do that as well."

"Sure, I'll get everything set up while you do that, and you can come find me when you're ready."

* * *

We burned Kelly on a pyre as close to the house as I dared build it. I had no idea what the nature of the anti-detection wards were, or if they had a distance limit, so I didn't want to push our luck.

Jack and I stood shoulder to shoulder, silent, watching the flames. I stared into them, trying to draw in their warmth. He seemed to be taking it pretty well, considering he'd just spent twenty minutes watching what were undoubtedly tearful videos left to him by a mother he would never meet.

He spoke without taking his eyes off of the pyre. "She's not gone, not really. And not in the platitude-y way that people use at funerals. A part of her soul is literally still with me. I can feel her." He raised a hand to his chest. "In here."

"That's a very healthy attitude," I murmured, impressed.

We watched the flames a while longer, and I took a minute to feel grateful to Cas and Kelly for their isolated location choice. It wouldn't do to have neighbors coming over to complain. Getting arrested for burning a body would not have been too good for our reputations, and who knew how long we were going to need to stay here.

When the fire started to die down a bit, I said, "I need to go into town to get some supplies. Will you be OK here on your own?"

He nodded. "I can spend more time in the grace-memories – they're going to take me several lifetimes to fully understand. Bring me some clothes, okay?"

"Yeah, man, the whole shebang. Underwear, socks, shoes. What size are you, do you know?"

He glanced down at our feet. Taking the hint, I knelt and unlaced my boot, handing it over to him. He slipped it over his pale, bare foot, which had been wiggling in the cold grass, and hummed consideringly. "I think this is a bit too big, maybe a size smaller?"

He handed it back to me, and I laced it back up. "I can always return anything I buy, so we'll experiment a little bit. Anything else in particular that you want?"

He looked a little shy. "Just come back soon, okay?"

* * *

The nearest town was a little over a half-hour away. It was big enough to support a Target, but not much bigger, with one main street running straight up the middle. There was a mall at one end, and a nice-looking park at the other. We were basically starting from scratch, both of us – all of my stuff was several hundred miles away, back in Kansas.

At the Target, I paused in the electronic doorway, considering. Then I shrugged, gave in to necessity, and pulled a cart from the row. I'd never needed enough at Target to take a cart before, but then, I'd never been given the responsibility of raising an actual person before, either.

I threw several six-packs of white, gray, and black t-shirts into the cart, in medium for him and large for me, and tossed in a ton of packages of socks and boxers on top of them. I grabbed him a few hoodies, some sweatpants in what I hoped was his size, and a pair of size-9 tennis shoes for him, and one in size 10 for me.

I was almost out of the clothing area when my eye snagged on a rack of flannel overshirts in various plaid colors. I acquiesced to the voice in my head and picked out a few of those in both of our sizes as well.

Then I moved on to the toiletries area, picking out toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, soap, basically anything that, once noticed, I realized I really needed. I suddenly understood every chick's lament about Target runs.

 _Laundry detergent_ , I suddenly thought as I was walking past a large display thereof. _Totally need that._

 _And a full set of Tupperware._

Once I'd made it out of the pharmaceutical area, I went up and down the food aisles. The cabin was pretty well stocked, and I didn't think we needed much, but if I was going to help the kid get healthy, I might as well do it too. It's not like I was in terrible shape, but I wasn't going to be a hypocrite gym teacher, barking orders while sitting on my ass. I had to step up.

I paused briefly next to the booze, then made a really big decision, and kept on walking. The kid needed me, clean and sober, and damned if I wasn't going to be there for him. When the nightmares came back, like they always did, I'd deal with them.

Among other various things, I dumped some chicken, minute rice, and canned veggies into the cart, and some bottles of salad dressing for marinades, and then swung back through the appliances section and grabbed the George Foreman grill that I'd always wanted. I held the box in my hands, looking down at George's smiling face, and I smiled back at him. The circumstances behind me getting to raise a child were definitely wonky, but I was going to be as domestic as I knew how to be.

The town was small enough that I could feel people giving me odd looks, as if they knew that they'd never seen me before. I smiled at them, handing out nods like a grand marshal at the Rose Parade, trying to ignore the way their eyebrows pulled together as they processed the contents of my cart.

"Just moving in?" the cashier asked, being friendly, making nice as she ran an entire household of items across her scanner. One glance of eye contact, then back on her hands, probably just like they taught in the handbook, nothing to be suspicious of.

"Yeah, rentin' one of the cabins out by the lake," I told her. "Came up with some friends for a few days, but they've all gone, and I decided I like it here, so I'm stayin' on. It's kind of exciting, just running away and startin' over somewhere."

That brought me a second, unscripted bit of eye contact. "Just like that?" she asked.

I shrugged, as casually as I could. "I'm a writer," I bullshitted. "I can do my job anywhere that makes me feel inspired. The cabin is just what I need to really get into my new story. Didn't want to leave it long enough to make the trip back to my apartment to grab my stuff, so here we are."

Her hands had passed the shirts in two different sizes over the scanner while she was staring at me. _Success_. But then she got to the two different pairs of shoes, and she faltered.

"I can return whichever of those doesn't fit, as long as they haven't been worn and I have the receipt, right?" I asked her.

Her smile returned. "Absolutely." She glanced down at my boots, nodded to herself, satisfied that I hadn't bought tennis shoes in a while and had forgotten my size, and then finished scanning the rest of my items.

"Do you want any bags?"

I looked around, then grabbed a few of the canvas reusable bags from their rack beside the checkout stand. "I'll take these as well. This might be the biggest shopping trip I've ever made, so whatever doesn't fit, plastic is fine."

The rest of the shopping trip went off without a hitch. A while back, Sam had done some digging into some of the Men of Letters' less licit files and located a spell that would refill a bank account, so he'd set up a magical American Express Black Card that we could use to pay for things when cash wouldn't cover it. We tried not to abuse it, since we knew better than most the consequences of magic, but it sure as hell came in handy in times like these.

Plus, it impressed the fuck out of chicks in bars.

* * *

Shadows were getting longer, though the sun was hours from setting, by the time I got back out to the lake. Jack came out when he heard the car pull up the gravel driveway and helped me haul our new loot into the house.

"Sam took Baby," he offered as an opening, apparently in case I wanted to bitch about it. He knew what Baby meant to me, he'd seen us go through some real shit together in every single set of memories he possessed.

I grunted noncommittally, then remembered that Jack didn't know my monosyllabic language and had to explain about the irony and the vanity. "He's probably not even gonna drive her," I added. "Probably gonna lock her up in the bunker's underground garage. Bitch better remember to take care of her."

We dropped the last of the bags onto the kitchen table. "So," I asked him, as he sorted through everything and started separating the food from the supplies, then the clothes from the chemicals. "What are your thoughts on three square meals a day? Need or not need?"

"I'm thinking I will probably be able to get by on less as I get better at managing my energy, but I'm running behind at the moment. I think it took a lot out of me to grow up so fast, and I'm going to need even more when I'm working with you on getting stronger. Let's just assume I'll eat when you eat, and if I don't think I need it, I won't."

He held up the Tupperware, grinning. "Looks like you thought of that as well."

I grinned back. "Don't get your hopes up too high. I'm complete crap at cooking, as far as I know. We're going to be learning how to do this together, sorry. I'm great at killin' things. Cookin' 'em, not so much. But I didn't kill Sam, and he's like eight feet tall now, so I must have done somethin' right."

Jack snickered. I knew there was something I liked about this kid.

"So I got us a grill, and I know how to marinate chicken, and I figure if we have a protein and a vegetable for dinner every night, Sam can't accuse me of trying to give you early-onset heart disease. You can let me know when you get bored with it, and we can try something else. There's this amazing thing called the internet, you've probably heard of it, and I think it's got some ideas how we can keep ourselves fed."

"Hey, you got us peanut butter and jelly!" Jack exclaimed happily, pulling the jars out of one of the bags.

I shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I couldn't think of anything else that said ' _lunch'_ to me, so here we are. I hope you don't have any allergies, they didn't sell angelic epi-pens at Target."

Jack gave me Sam's eye-roll, which was disorienting as fuck.

We started putting the food away, milk and juice and meat in the fridge, non-perishables in the pantry, and then carted the clothes into the tiny room off the back of the kitchen, where a shiny washer-dryer set lurked.

Jack looked at me expectantly, so I put on an air of I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing and started ripping open packages and dumping our new wardrobe onto the floor.

Once I'd finished, Jack looked over our bounty. "Pretty monochromatic theme you've picked for us."

"Thought I'd give you time to learn a bit about the world before I went and made decisions like that for you. A man's wardrobe is a personal thing that reflects his own tastes." Holy shit, I sounded pretentious. Is this what teachers felt like, but on purpose? "Like, I didn't want to get you a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and then when you listen to them with your own ears, you decide you hate Led Zeppelin."

I dropped the box of Tide I'd been squinting at the back of, struck with sudden horror. "Please, for Chuck's sake, I hope you like Led Zeppelin. I don't think I could take it if you didn't."

Jack raised an eyebrow at me, another of Sam's favorites for when he thought I was being thick. "One, I have your and Sam's good memories associated with your music already, so that shouldn't be a problem, and, two, are you going to use my grandfather's name in vain like that all the time?"

I shrugged, not even sorry. "The dude put his feet on my living room table – in _socks_. He drank my beer, ate my food, flat-out told me to call him Chuck. I've found it hard to call him _God_ or associate him with any sort of organized religion since then."

I looked at Jack, a little sideways. "Also, I have this vague notion that you shouldn't curse around a child, and I'm finding that difficult, because one, there's never been a time when I haven't cursed, and also, you don't _look_ like a friggin' child, so I'm havin' a hard time remembering to watch my language. And, three, your dad was the actual King of Hell, and a son of Heaven, so most of my favorite curse words are potentially offensive to you, so I'm trying to avoid them."

Jack nodded. "I appreciate the effort, and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to keep trying. When you mention Hell so casually, all I can think about is the time both you and Sam spent there, and how much it messed you up. I know you tend to bottle up your emotions, to make light of the things that are actually really bothering you, so when you're being so casual about it, I just don't know if you're hiding something."

"Fair enough," I acquiesced, startled at the depth of his insight. "I'll come up with some colorful alternatives. Now, how about I figure out this laundry business, and you go put some chicken in to marinate for a bit? Just find a bowl or a Zip-loc bag, put in two pieces of chicken, dump in a bottle of salad dressing, and put it in the fridge. You know what? Better do up a couple, so that we'll have something to work with tomorrow, too."

He nodded, and left me alone with the silent, new-cotton-smelling heaps. I heard him rattling around in the kitchen while I sorted the socks into their own pile (" _socks and towels are washed in hot water,"_ said Sam's voice in my head), the pants into a second (" _pants are done in cold"_ ), and left the shirts in a third (" _delicate wash for everything else_ ").

Then I looked at the single washer-dryer, and up at a plain-faced clock on the wall. Then I shoved everything back into a single pile and dumped it all into the washing machine. I added the largest recommended amount of detergent, set the dial to cold, regular, and set the whole shebang in motion.

There were a few beats of silence, the sound of water gurgling through pipes, and then the machine started up with a reassuring hum.

Satisfied, I went to see how Jack was faring.

* * *

"Here's my laptop," I said, sliding it over the table to him. "I figure, we can spend most of the day on physical fitness, but you need to stay connected to the world if you're ever going to be a real part of it. We can dedicate any leftover time each day, or times when you don't feel like you need to sleep but I do, to research and education."

Jack eyed the slim silver object like it was a venomous spider. "I know what the internet's like, are you sure that's such a good idea? I might come across a troll that makes me decide that humanity has no value after all."

"Even so," I said, nudging it toward him a bit more. "If you do find someone who fills you with genocidal rage, then look at cute pictures of cats for a while. Balance is important. Do I need to warn you about porn sites?"

Jack tilted his head. "I hadn't really thought about it. I think I'm more angelic than human in terms of sex drive, at least, that I've noticed so far. I mean, ' _it'_ hasn't … responded … to anything so far."

I heard his unspoken comment on angelic sex drives, or lack thereof, and tucked it away. Even if Cas had wanted me in _that way_ when he'd been human, I'd been too hung up on my own bullshit to take that chance, and I'd missed it, like I'd missed everything else with him.

"It's called a penis, dude. It's normal, it's natural, and it's bullshit that humans have this taboo about talking about it. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable about anything you have questions about. Granted, there are some things that Sam is much better at than me, but I will give you my best shot, without judgment."

Jack looked shifty. "After going through some of Lucifer's memories of his time with Sam, I'm not sure how comfortable I am talking to him about anything. I was in his head, so I _know_ he doesn't blame me, but _I_ blame me! What my father did, it was so …" Jack strained for any other word, but I figured I already knew where he was going, "so _fucked up_. He put Sam in an _insane asylum_. Castiel had to _partition his brain_ to get him to function again!"

"All the more reason you should talk with him," I said, not really surprised. "I think he left us one of the spare cell phones, so you can call or text him whenever anything comes up that you don't think I'm suited to help with."

He shrugged. "Yeah, okay." It wasn't a guarantee, but it was better than nothing. I'd make myself talk about penises like it was easy for me if that's what the kid needed, but feelings were something else. I'd give it the old College Try, but we both knew it was really more my brother's department.

"Use the laptop. There are forum sites, like Reddit, or just people posting random crap sites, like Imgur, or verifiable news sites that you can browse in order to get general knowledge. Or just search Wikipedia if you want to know more about anything in particular, and then follow links within articles, and then links within _those_ articles, if you need to kill a few hours."

I checked my watch. "I'm going to get the grill washed and set up, and then I'm going to make dinner. You and the laptop get acquainted."

* * *

With much box-reading, creative cursing, and an accidentally soaked shirt, and with a pause in the middle to put most of the laundry into the dryer and hang up the flannel shirts to dry, I finally got dinner onto the table. Jack had kept one eye on me and one eye on whatever he had pulled up on the screen, so I called that a learning win for both of us.

After dinner, I handed him a toothbrush. He raised an eyebrow at me, hefting it dubiously.

"Look, kid, I don't know if angelic powers prevent tooth decay. It's simple and easy, and it can't hurt to try."

He shrugged good-naturedly.

"And the shower, any interest in tryin' it out? I got shampoo, conditioner, all that crap."

"That seems to be therapeutic as well as actively cleansing, so yes, I think I will participate."

"Well, I usually shower at night, but some people shower mornings, so that can be up to you. Do you want to go first?"

He looked down at his hands, shrugged undoubtedly grimy shoulders inside his inherited clothing. "Yes. I believe that would be nice."

"Okay. You go take care of yourself, I'll clean up in here. The dryer should be done soon, so I'll leave some pajamas for you on the sink outside the shower."

"Thanks, Dean."

He grabbed the shower gear and headed out. I went over the kitchen counters with a soapy sponge and loaded the dishwasher up, then stood in the doorway, hands on hips, feeling proud of myself, until the dryer made its horrible buzzing noise.

Then, I folded shirts and boxers, and I paired socks together, and I felt like Martha fucking Stewart. When I'd folded the pants and soft tee that I'd intended as pajamas, I added a pair of boxers and socks, crept into the steam-filled upstairs bathroom, and left the stack on the sink before sneaking back out.

Or, at least, _trying_ to sneak. "Thank you!" he called as I closed the door.

* * *

I woke up pretty early – for me, anyway – the next morning, and went into the kitchen to turn on the coffeemaker I'd noted the day before.

Jack was already up, eating a bowl of cereal and tapping away on the laptop.

Nodding a good morning at him, I poured water and grounds into the appropriate reservoirs and pushed the GO button, then stared at it while it percolated, producing that miraculous nectar of life.

I stared at the machine, then I stared through it, picturing how it got here: Cas and Kelly, shopping together like newlyweds setting up a household. The image gave me an unexpected stab of jealousy, and behind me I heard Jack stop chewing.

Then I thought about it some more. Cas hadn't needed coffee, juiced up beyond full power as he had been. Kelly had been pregnant, and I'd heard somewhere that pregnant women didn't drink coffee – though she probably shouldn't have been too worried about causing birth defects in a nephilim. So why buy a coffee maker – not to mention, coffee and filters – if neither of them was going to use it?

Ah. _Dammit, Cas._ He'd done it for me. Well, me and Sam. The jealous feeling popped like a soap bubble, and the void inside me surged outward.

 _Nope,_ I told it. _Not a chance, haven't even had my coffee yet._ It allowed itself to be beaten back down, sullenly, it felt, and I went to search the cupboards for a mug. Jack was silent a moment longer, and I felt his eyes on my back, but then the clicking of the laptop keys and the clinking of spoon in bowl resumed.

I found the mug cupboard, turned to Jack, raised an eyebrow. "Any interest in coffee?"

He made a face. "I think it might be the wrong kind of energy for me. I'll hold off on artificial stimulants until I know for sure I've got a handle on everything."

"Good plan," I said, grabbing a single mug. I filled a bowl of cereal for myself, poured myself a cup of coffee from the still-dripping machine, poured some milk into both, and settled down at the table with Jack, thumbing through current events on my phone.

I sent a text to Sam giving him an update (" _Still alive, eating healthy, go figure")_. I felt Jack's eyes on me again while I did it, even though he was engrossed in the laptop when I glanced up at him.

"My phone is always available for you to look through, if you ever have even the slightest doubt about my intentions," I told him. "If you want to check my text history with Sam, go ahead, that's fine. Though I will have to work with you on privacy, and what things can go unsaid. Cas never quite got the hang of that one."

Jack's eyes went wide. "You don't have to-"

"It's fine. You might start to feel like you're reliant on my good intentions, so I want to nip any lurking resentment in the bud."

His shoulders sagged. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"And text Sam. Whenever you want. He loves his research, but he loves a good interruption, too."

He shrugged back at me. "Got it. So, what's on the agenda today?"

"I figured we'd start with a little light yoga, some stretching, while we digest – and while my coffee gets to work. Then some cardio and some strength training, just to see where you're starting from. I'm going to be working out with you, if that's okay. It's been one crisis after another for such a long friggin' time, I know I'm fit enough to get the job done, but I could be better.

"We're limited in what we can do, based on the space available, and because we don't know how far outside the house you can get without leavin' the wards. That's one of Sam's top priorities for research – what wards Cas used, what exactly they're doin' for us, and what their effective ranges are. Once he knows what wards are effective, he can scrawl 'em up in the bunker and we can go home. Once he figures out a traveling ward, of course."

Jack nodded, then waggled his eyebrows at me. "So. Yoga?"

"Hey, I don't watch the videos just for the chicks in tight pants. I learned a thing or two as well, along the way. Get your comfy pants on, shoes off, and meet me in the living room. I'm going to rearrange the furniture to give us some space, and get some tunes going."

* * *

If this had been a movie, here's the part where we would have inserted a cheesy training montage, preferably set to _Eye of the Tiger_. Unfortunately, we weren't in a movie, so we had to creep along at a snail's pace, step by agonizing step.

We started with stretching, and Jack was immediately frustrated by how he couldn't reach as far as I could.

"Flexibility isn't something that happens overnight," I told him. "I worked long and hard to achieve this, and it takes upkeep as well. If we do this every day, you'll see improvement, I promise."

Then there was the yoga, and some tai chi videos I pulled up on the laptop.

"Endurance doesn't happen overnight," I told him as he massaged his twitching hamstrings. I skipped the rest of the speech – his irritated huff told me he didn't need it.

Then we ran laps around the house, as close in as we could. "Shut up," he panted at me. "Just don't even say it."

"Look, kid, you've literally never pushed your body before. I've had several decades experience, which is why _I'm_ teachin' _you_ , and not the other way around. If it makes you feel better, you're light-years ahead of any kid your age on the entire planet."

That tricked a smile onto his grumpy face, and we went on to planks, pushups, sit-ups, and wall squats.

I was exhausted at the end of each day, but the sense of satisfaction I got, seeing him improve by increments, was like no feeling I'd ever had before, not even when I was taking care of Sam as a kid.

And so what if I sometimes opened the fridge to grab a beer that wasn't there, or if I patted at a pocket that no longer contained a flask of whiskey, just out of sheer habit. Jack didn't judge me for it, and even though the nightmares crowded back in at night, I was still healthier than any former alcoholic had any right to be, thanks to Cas's final fix-me-up.

I knew that at least some of those Hellscape visions of my cruel teacher and our hapless prey had to be strong enough to wake him up, though he'd kept the upstairs bedroom and I'd taken over the one downstairs, but he never mentioned them in the mornings. He just gave me extra body contact, like a pat on the shoulder or a squeeze to my upper arm. It felt nice, real, something to hold onto against the remembered horrors.

* * *

I bought an extremely secure security system a few weeks in, along with several wireless cameras to hide in the surrounding woods that fed to my laptop and phone. I worked all afternoon, up and down a ladder hastily purchased at the town's Home Depot, until my quads and lower back ached like a bitch. Until I was absolutely certain there were no blind spots.

If anyone came at us from any direction, the sky included, I would see them coming, and I would be ready.

I gave Sam the password, in case we went dark and he needed to review the feeds to figure out what had happened to us.

* * *

Sam texted a few weeks in to let us know he'd discovered that large bodies of water had scattering effects on scrying spells, and that if Jack wanted to go for a swim, as long as he didn't linger too long in the space between the house and the lake, he should still be safe, and could stay out as long as he wanted.

I'd never seen the kid move that fast before. I could have sworn I saw little cartoon puffs of dust in the space where he'd been standing when we read the text. I followed the trail of clothes out of the house, down the back porch, and stopped by his shoes, lying abandoned and catawampus at the edge of the water.

Then I stared at his incredibly pale back, as he stood frozen, the water lapping at the bottom edge of his boxers.

"Dean?" he asked without turning around.

"Yeah, kid, I'm right here."

"Can angels swim, do you know?" It was his brave voice, the one he used when we were about to discover if something came down on one side or the other of his dual nature.

"Cas's bones were pretty dense, and he sank like a stone when he-"

Memories of a tan trench coat floating on top of a spreading inkstain in a reservoir plugged my throat. I coughed, pushed it away.

"You do seem a little dense for your size," I managed to add, "but it should be ok. We can stay in the shallows until you feel comfortable. And I know CPR if you accidentally go under. Learned it for Sam when he was a kid."

"You'll come out, too?"

I was already pulling off my shirt. "Heck yes. I friggin' hate running, and if there's a better way for us to get our cardio in, sign me the chocolate fudge up right now."

That's also how we discovered that he had accelerated healing, because even though he went to bed that night as red as a lobster, he got up the next morning unscathed, if a tiny bit browner.

Didn't stop me from trying to make him wear sunscreen, though.

* * *

We discovered one night while we were making dinner that Jack was a bit lacking in the hand-eye coordination department.

He apologized profusely as I mopped up the shards and goop that had once been a jar of garden-veggies-style pasta sauce. I'd tossed it to him, and he'd juggled it, hands desperately fumbling, but then there had been a terrible crash that might have actually cracked a floor tile.

"No worries, kid. I guess I should have kept lookin' through those "What to Expect" books anyway, because I'm pretty sure they mentioned something about this. I don't think puttin' square pegs in square holes is the ticket for you, though."

He let out a sort of despairing wail, staring at his hands as if they'd betrayed him.

"It's cool, I know the perfect thing. I'll head into town first thing tomorrow. Sam had some suggestions about healthy foods we could add to our menu for a little variety, so I can pick those up while I'm out and you can chill with some Netflix. Tell me where you're at with _Firefly_?"

* * *

I hit up the sporting goods store the next morning: baseballs and two mitts, a bat in case we ever figured out how to stray from the house, a good quality football, some fishing gear, a few light-up things to dive for, for fun.

The dude at the checkout raised an eyebrow at me. Remembering the small-town vibe I'd picked up at the Target, I gave him an embarrassed grin. "My nephew is out visiting me. I'm hoping for some good, solid, outdoor bonding time. You know how obsessed kids these days are with their phones."

It worked like a charm.

Then I swung back past the grocery store to refill on some things we'd run out of, and to seek out some of Sam's suggestions, though I'd told him I'd go down on all fours on the lawn and eat grass before I'd ever willingly eat kale.

We weren't doing too badly, cuisine-wise. We were both getting better at it, and we hadn't burned anything in almost a month.

* * *

We started close in, tossing the small white sphere gently to each other, fumbling the catches in the stiff leather mitts, but as we broke them in, and he got better at it, we moved farther apart. I positioned him close to the house, next to a bit without windows, while I backed up across the driveway. Every day, I got a little further away. When he was chasing down a fumbled catch, I had to snort back the moisture that sprang up in my sinuses, thinking of Bobby and how he had yelled at my father for not teaching us this himself.

" _I'll be_ damned _if those boys won't get_ this _, after everythin' else you've robbed from them. No, no, go on. Go chase your damned lead on your damned personal demon. Leave them boys with me, I'll see 'em right, even if you cain't be bothered to remember that they're actually children!"_

I still wondered about their relationship every so often. "Uncle" Bobby had been more of an actual father to us than Dad had, at times, but Dad had always come back for us. He only left us behind when he was either doing something he thought might get us hurt, or when he thought there was a chance he might not come back at all. Bobby was just happy to see us. We hadn't known, then, about his wife, about the chance at a family of his own that had been robbed from _him_.

That made me think about MirrorVerse Bobby, and how we might see him again someday in the not-too-distant future, might save _him_ this time around, but a shout of " _head's up!"_ had me reining in my wandering thoughts, and I got my glove up just before the ball could hit me in the face.

"Nice throw!" I shouted back.

Jack glowed at me.

* * *

He did that sometimes, the glowing. When he was really excited about something, or proud of himself, or was listening to a particularly good bit of classic rock, or if a particular food experiment had turned out delicious, he glowed with his whole being. It was subtle in his skin, and particularly concentrated in his eyes. If he looked at you when his eyes were lit up, he could throw actual shadows on the wall behind you.

It embarrassed him, but I found it endearing. He always apologized afterward, said he could feel the wards straining around his outbursts, but Sam had reckoned he might be closing in on which wards Cas had used, so I told him not to worry, we could always redraw them later if he ever got too excited.

* * *

When I deemed Jack passable at aiming, I started him on weaponry. It was his idea, said he wanted to learn Hunting skills. I felt suddenly like my own mother, sick to my stomach at the thought of this innocent child in The Life, but he deserved the means to protect himself at the very least.

I dug my crossbow and a spare gun out of the depths of a duffle in my closet and moved us from tai chi to grappling and judo, though I kept us at the yoga.

Sam got ' _first'_ photos via text, like "Jack's first fish" (a soaking-wet Jack holding up a beautiful rainbow trout as long as his forearm) and "Jack's first bulls-eye" (Jack holding my gun in one hand, and a target with a hole right in the center in the other).

Sam and Jack texted each other regularly, I was relieved to discover. At first it was solely about Sam's research, but as Jack grew more comfortable with Sam, it was about philosophy and current events, as well. They were more similar to each other than either of them knew, and I tried not to think about how they both could blame me for that.

* * *

Jack got lessons on morality as well, disguised as casual chats while we tossed the football back and forth, though I was fairly certain that I wasn't fooling him. I posed questions about how a person should act in a certain situation and when Jack answered, I walked him back through his choices, making sure he could see the situation from all sides.

* * *

When we hit Veteran's Day, a week or so before our six-month anniversary, as it were, I looked over at him while we were holding tree poses in the early-morning-light of the front yard.

"What do you think about inviting Sam up here for a few days?"

I only saw people on my trips into town, and he'd literally never seen another living soul, so I didn't take it personally when his eyes lit up. Literally, lit up.

"I'll take that as a yes," I added, when he seemed unable to form a response. "I'll send him a text. If he's at a good stopping place in the research, he should be able to make it out here in a few days. It's a pretty long drive from Kansas."

* * *

Sam was delighted, of course.

"Do you think he'll bring Baby with him?" Jack asked, fidgeting in excitement as the hour of Sam's arrival drew nearer.

"Let's think about this for a second, kid. Sam's been on his own for six months. The question is not, will he drive Baby up here? The question is, what color Prius will he show up in?"

Jack's sense of humor was hit or miss, but this got a full-on snicker attack out of him, so I called it a win, even though I was actually dead serious.

* * *

Sam pulled up the long gravel drive from the distant road as the golden light of late afternoon in mid-November poured over the landscape.

The Prius was dark green.

* * *

"Hey, Sammy," I called from the porch, grinning as he unfolded himself from the driver's seat.

My giant little brother made a groaning noise as he pushed his hands into the small of his back and bent himself backwards. I took a minute to admire him objectively; he'd been making the most of his down-time, just like I had, and it showed.

I glanced sideways at Jack, beaming at my elbow, clearly eager to launch himself at my brother as soon as he straightened up, and I contrasted the tanned, toned, healthy young man with the burning-eyed gaunt apparition I'd met on the kitchen floor six months ago, and I felt a burst of pride.

Sam eased himself back upright and turned toward us. "Hi! H- _oof!_ "

Jack's countdown had reached zero, and he shot towards my brother like a cannonball, his long arms meeting around Sam's middle and squeezing. Laughing, Sam squeezed back, and then I think they had an impromptu strength contest, where they each tried to lift each other, and almost succeeded in knocking themselves to the ground.

When Jack stepped away, still grinning, I took my turn, wrapping my arms around my brother's broad shoulders and pounding him on the back a few times. Sam and I hadn't spent this long away from each other voluntarily (which counted out our many and varied deaths, Hell stays, periods of soullessness, and when we were so pissed off at the lies we told each other constantly that we were taking breaks) since he'd stormed off to Stanford, and _damn_ it was good to see him.

"You need a haircut," I told him, laughing.

"When's the last time you shaved?" he responded, shoving me a little, face splitting with a smile.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

" _Anyway,_ " Jack interrupted, before either of us could burst into tears or something even more unmanly, "come on in! Tell us what's new, and what your drive was like, and what you want to do with the next few days."

Sam gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, apparently taking a minute to admire his progress, just as I had. "I definitely have some things to tell you guys," he said. "Let me grab my bags."

Jack stayed inside the circle that we had decided was the limit of the wards, whether because he remembered where we'd determined that to be, or if he could just sort of _feel_ them, and held out his hands to offer assistance.

We got Sam inside. "Couch okay?" I asked him.

He pulled his eyebrows together. "Doesn't this place have three bedrooms?" he asked. _Are you guys still using one of them to keep the bodies, in a weird, Bates-Motel-y_ _kind of way_? went unsaid.

I exchanged glances with Jack. "Go ahead, it's your party trick," I told him, and he latched onto a wide-eyed Sam's arm and practically dragged him upstairs. I straightened the haphazard pile we'd dropped on the floor, lining things up against the wall, and strained to catch any sounds that drifted back down to me.

There was a sharp exclamation of surprise from Sam, and then the dull murmur of Jack explaining, then Jack's voice going up sharply, probably when Sam had tried to do what I'd done. Cas hadn't patched Sam up quite the way he'd done for me, down in the Pit, but he'd definitely glued him back together, body to soul, and healed us both so many times that it was a wonder we didn't feel his grace in our bones like an ache when it rained.

Heavy footsteps tromped back down the stairs. I'd been working with Jack on _not_ sounding like a small elephant everywhere he went, but his bones _were_ a little denser than a human's, so there wasn't much he could do to help it. My brother's six-foot-five frame was not exactly light as a feather, either.

 _The pitter-patter of little feet_ , I thought, snorting a laugh to myself.

"Did you catch dinner on the road, or did you want to eat with us?" I asked him, when the two of them reappeared in the room, Sam's face still and thoughtful.

"I caught breakfast at my motel, but I haven't stopped since." _My car has excellent gas mileage_ , he didn't say, but I heard his smugness anyway.

I sighed. "Mind if I take a look at your car while you're here? Mechanic skills are the only thing I can fall back on if we never go back to hunting, and hybrid cars are the wave of the future. Can't make a livin' on gas-guzzling museum pieces alone."

Sam's mouth dropped open, and his eyes just about fell out of his face.

* * *

"This is really good, you guys," Sam said, sounding so shocked it bordered on insulting.

In reality, we'd made one of our fallbacks, since we hadn't known what time to expect him, exactly, so we hadn't wanted to prepare anything elaborate – not that we were up to elaborate yet, anyway. A few pieces of marinated chicken on the grill for a few minutes, then chopped up, mixed in with whole-wheat pasta, some veggies, and a jar of pasta sauce.

Since it was a special occasion, we'd done up a homemade garlic bread as well. It felt like a cheat day, and it tasted like parmesan-and-butter-covered, carb-loaded heaven.

Sam had wandered the kitchen while we worked, opening cabinets, generally checking up on me. When he got to the fridge, and saw that the only beverages were bottles of water and Gatorade, milk, and juice, he'd come to a full stop and stared at me.

I'd just shrugged at him. Nightmares, I could deal with. I'd been living behind my own private haze for long enough, I'd decided, and I wanted to be _present_ for Jack. The thought of missing something he did, the way Dad had missed so many of Sam's and my achievements, made me feel physically nauseous.

So we let the clinking of forks on plates take over for conversation for a bit, and we all took in some silent companionship. I thought of Sam, rattling around in the bunker all alone, while I got to hang out with this amazing kid here on the edge of a beautiful lake, and I felt all sorts of guilty.

Not that it took much to make me feel guilty; it was one of the emotions I was best at, after all.

* * *

"So, what news from the stacks?" I asked, settling back at the table after I'd loaded the dishwasher and pushed the on button. The sound of gushing and rattling followed me out of the kitchen. It wasn't a new place, this cabin that Cas has somehow purchased.

Sam had checked into that as well – turned out, this place had been for sale, and Cas had bought it on the spot, despite being a little short on actual physical resources. I suspected angelic fudging of the rules of morality, but he'd fallen to the Dark Side – because of me – so long ago, it felt kind of rude to question it.

"I … um. I think I have a lead on where angels go when they die."

The raspberry I'd selected from our dessert fruit plate froze on its way to my mouth. My whole body went hot, then cold, all over. The void inside cocked up a twitching ear. It had become an old friend in the past months, no longer a thing to be feared or fought because it marked that I had once had something worth losing, so I gave it a mental scratch under the chin and told it to go back to sleep. The raspberry continued its terminal journey, and when it was souring on my tongue, I managed an interested-sounding, "Oh?"

I hadn't fooled either of them, but Sam pressed on anyway. "We know they don't go to Christian Heaven with the rest of the human souls, but I was thinking, what if they went to one of the other ones? The religions without angels? I narrowed it down a bit, checking into religions that seem to persist even though their main population of believers should have died out long ago, and we're probably looking at either one of the Greek ones, or Valhalla."

"Not Sto-vo-kor?" I asked glibly. Hey, it could happen. All religion was based on reality at some point, if the various gods we'd met in our time were to be believed, and what was Star Trek but another religion?

Sam raised an eyebrow at me, then seemed to change his mind about serving up a sarcastic response. "I'll add it to the list," he said, a light of interest kindling behind his eyes.

"Do we have any way to get to any of these places? And any guarantee we can get back out?"

Jack waved the apple slice he happened to be holding. "I've already said I'd help with any dimensional portals you guys might need. It's the one thing I'm absolutely sure that I can do with my powers, after all, since I've done it before, and I wasn't even born then."

Sam looked at him, then at me. "Jack…"

"Nope," Jack interrupted. "You can't tell me not to come with you. You guys elected yourselves the world's guardians, but who guards you? You need me to watch your back, at least until you get Castiel back."

"You're not a replacement for him," I told Jack, suddenly very serious, despite the fact that I was now pointing at him with a strawberry. "And he won't be a replacement for you, when we get him back. We're family, all of us."

"Um, as long as we're going in to pull someone out, do you think we should look for Gabriel as well?" Sam asked. "He was a member of Team Free Will before we even knew that was what we were. He rebelled against Heaven without falling, just through sheer pigheadedness, and he's an archangel. He'd be a huge help when we go up against Lucifer again."

I thought of the Trickster, of how he'd made Sam watch while I died over and over, how he'd trapped us inside TV shows, how he'd – I grinned – how he'd put Sam in a commercial for genital herpes treatment. Yeah, that dude was one of us, for sure. He'd died for us, too, at that summit of the pagan gods. We should probably at least try.

I gave Sam a nod. "Why do you look so relieved?"

"I bet Sam's been perusing the fanfiction sites again," Jack sniped wickedly. "Ever hear of _Sabriel_? And I _don't_ mean the young adult novel by Garth Nix."

Sam sputtered, choked on his own raspberry. "I'm not… It's not like that! At all!"

Understanding flooded through me, and I busted up laughing until I couldn't breathe. Oh, man, this was even better than the commercial!

When Jack and I got ourselves under control, panting a little, I apologized to my red-faced brother. "No worries, man. I know we barely got to know the guy. We'll stop by his prison cell when we stroll into the Underworld to pick up Cas, and say hi. If he's feelin' friendly, he's welcome to join us. Whatever you guys decide to do after that is none of my business."

Sam cleared his throat and tried to pick up his thread again, ignoring the way Jack and I kept breaking into giggles. "So, I'm going to do a bit more research on the alternate afterlives, and if I can't narrow it down any further, we'll just have to visit them all."

"I like this plan," I said. "Always wanted to see Valhalla, personally. Hey, Jack, what's the plan for tomorrow, anyway?"

Jack looked startled to be addressed, and then confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Sam's here, and it's sort of a holiday, what do you want to do?"

Jack's frustrated face, which had been growing more familiar of late, the more he saw of the outside world on Netflix, made an appearance again now. "I don't know, swim? Toss the football? Watch TV?"

Sam was stifling a grin. He'd hit a breakthrough with his research about a week ago, and I'd told him about my surprise plan, the fruits of which were sitting in a small box in my pocket, retrieved from the jeweler in town that morning when I'd picked up the supplies for Sam's visit.

"I was thinking we'd go to town, maybe hit the library or bookstore, the mall for new clothes and shoes, and maybe catch the new Avengers movie in theaters and get some actual hot pizza for dinner."

Jack's face had gone blank, and I felt a little cruel.

"That sounds great. Let me know how it was when you get back." He started to stand up but I waved my hands at him.

"Wait, wait, I have something for you."

I dug the box out of my pocket and handed it across the table to him.

He looked down at it, and at Sam and me, the both of us no longer bothering to hide our grins. A grin of his own started to form on his face, before he even knew what he was holding, and he tore the lid off.

Three identical silver amulets nestled inside, each a knotted, intricate rune. "What…?"

"They're masking runes," said Sam. "Just keep one in contact with your skin. They don't cancel your power or anything, just keep you from being detected when you leave the house. You're not trying to hide from the average man on the street, so you don't need anything too elaborate. Just a little something to keep anyone with any extra senses from noticing you."

Jack cradled the small box like it contained live kittens. Then, "Will it hurt?" he asked, suddenly unsure. I was proud of how well he'd learned the lessons I'd tried to teach: no power without price.

Sam shrugged one shoulder. "From what I've read, it shouldn't be any worse than wearing a shirt that's a little too small. Want to give it a go?"

Jack's excitement, temporarily doused by caution, flared back up, and Sam got to see him glow. My brother's eyes went wide, then squinted against the brightness Jack was throwing off as he stared down into the box in his hands.

Jack held up one hand, like a surgeon who'd scrubbed up, then carefully picked up the amulet on top of the pile.

His light immediately went out, the kitchen lights suddenly seeming inadequate to cover for what he had been supplying. His eyes were just plain brown, though warm and kind. He looked like a normal kid with too-long hair, albeit one that was extremely happy about something.

"How do you feel?" I asked him. "Can you still sense us? What works and what doesn't work?"

He looked at both of us for a minute. "I don't think I've lost too much. I can still sort of feel both of you, but I don't know if that's just because I know you. I have to focus harder than usual to get any sort of details, though. Mostly I just sense that you're here, in the room with me."

"Any constriction?" Sam asked.

Jack made a shrugging motion with his shoulders, exactly like someone easing a too-tight shirt. I don't think he was aware that he'd done it. "I feel what you were describing. It's like I'm wearing a full-body wetsuit. There's room for me inside it, but nothing me-like is going to get out."

I beamed. "So? How do you feel about going to town? Meeting some real-live people who aren't on a screen?"

Jack looked somewhere between excited and terrified.

"Big day tomorrow, so brush your teeth and get to bed."

"Aw, do I have to?"

I blinked at him. This was a bit we'd come up with, an inside joke, but if he wanted to show off for Sam, I sure as hell wasn't going to discourage him.

"Well, Jack, technically, I guess we really just don't know, but it can't hurt, can it?"

* * *

I woke up at sunrise. We had promised Jack we'd drive over first thing in the morning and hit up the diner in town for breakfast, but the actual physical light of sunrise came late up in the mountains, so it was still kind of dark.

There was already an air of anticipation creeping through the house in the dimness. I was excited for him, as well as for myself. Mmmm, diner pancakes and pizzeria pizza. Short of being outed as hunters and their otherworldy charge, there wasn't much that could keep this day from being totally awesome.

I dragged myself into the kitchen and startled a bit to see Jack standing there in the dark, eating a granola bar in front of the coffee machine, which he'd already turned on. "Have you been up long?" I asked him, low, so as not to wake Sam out in the living room.

"Couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about today. I'm going to _leave_ the _house_."

"You sure are, kid. In a big way. Think of this as a test run. If this works out, there's nowhere you can't go."

"Maybe I'll get that houseboat after all," he replied, grinning. It was something we'd discussed at length, where he wanted to plant himself when he could leave the cabin. He hadn't declared outright that he wanted to be a hunter, but his mother's expectations weighed on him, and I knew I couldn't keep him here forever when half of his soul demanded that he be out there saving people, making the world (or _a_ world, anyway) a better place.

"We'll go see Disneyland, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, first, before you sail off into the sunset."

"I'd like to see _you_ at Disneyland," commented Sam, leaning on the doorjamb.

We both spun to look at him. I recovered first, shrugging. "Happiest place on Earth, they say. Jack's got to have something to go on."

Sam grinned, striding over to the pantry and pulling out a granola bar for himself. "Send me a picture of you wearing a pair of Mickey ears," he said.

"Like hell-lelujah we'd go without you. And Cas, and Mom. And we're all wearin' the ears, so you can shut up about that right now."

He nodded, swallowing the bar in one bite, then gestured at his feet, which were laced into his running shoes. "I was planning on getting some jogging in before we hit the road, do we have time? Things in town won't be open for another few hours."

I shared a glance with Jack. "Race?" I asked him.

When he nodded, I turned back to Sam. "Once around the lake, you running and us swimming, last place takes last shower with the least hot water."

For the second time in this house, I found myself standing in an empty kitchen, with poofs of dust where there used to be people.

"Oi!" I shouted after them, kicking off the slippers I'd put on and pulling off my sweatpants-cum-pajamas as I hopped toward the still-swinging back door. "Cheaters!"

* * *

Jack got back first, and though he swore up and down that he hadn't used any supernatural powers, I had my suspicions. Jack hated cold showers.

I got back second, though, to be fair, the lake circuit was a little smaller than the jogging path around it, so it wasn't really a fair race.

Sam begrudgingly accepted third shower. Fortunately for him, Jack and I weren't complete assholes, so we saved as much hot water for him as we could. His hair-care regimen was a mystery to me, but that didn't mean I wanted to ruin it for him.

For all I knew, based on the evidence I'd gathered over the years, he kept his hair shiny and healthy with cheap shampoo and the blackest of magic. I'd shared hotel rooms with the guy for a decade, and as far as I knew, we made due with the same toiletries. It boggled the mind.

* * *

We reconvened in the living room, clean and slightly damp and smelling nice. Sam and I had put on our best casual clothes: jeans without holes in them, t-shirts under flannel, jackets on top, boots. Jack had imitated us, either on purpose or unconsciously, but he was wearing his tennis shoes, and his t-shirt had Led Zeppelin on it.

Sam took one look at it, then just turned to me and said, "Dean," in the flattest, most ' _I'm not surprised but I'm still disappointed_ ' way possible.

"Hey, whoa, he requested it. We picked it out on Amazon and got it delivered to a PO box in town." I waved my hands at my brother in self-defense.

Sam stifled a cough that sounded suspiciously like _Stockholm syndrome_ before shrugging. "Sure, man, whatever."

Jack smiled, not trying to assist me in any way, the stinker. "So, can we go now, or what?"

"Got your amulet?" I asked him.

He patted his chest. "Right here." We'd threaded one of the medallions onto a leather thong, and he'd slung it around his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

"I've got the spares with me, in case you melt that one. Wait, we didn't mention the melting?"

Jack's sudden look of horror told me that no, we hadn't.

"The amulet is for masking your normal power levels only," said Sam. "If you try to ramp up your powers, to use them or just because you're caught unawares emotionally, the amulet could overload and melt. If you feel that happening, either get control super-quick, or get it away from your skin, because it _will_ literally melt, and it _is_ made of metal."

"I was wondering why you'd gotten me three of them," Jack said, a little faintly. "I was hoping it wasn't because you thought I would lose them, or something like that."

"Nope, catastrophic failure prep only. I have total faith in your ability to keep track of your things. Everyone got everything?"

I reached my left hand into my pocket and slipped on the ring I'd stashed there after I'd dressed. It was a heavy, twisting silver band, patterned very faintly with the merest abstract thought of feathers, with a single large sapphire set in it. I'd spent more time than I'll ever admit at the jewelry store in town one day while Jack was catching up on Star Trek, picking out a stone in exactly the right shade of blue. This would be my first time actually wearing it; I'd picked it up when I'd picked up Jack's amulets. It embraced my middle finger like a lover, and it felt right.

We filed out of the house and down the dark driveway to Sam's car.

His soul-less, noiseless, _oh-so-environmentally-friendly_ car.

Jack crossed the invisible line of the wards with one hand pressed to his chest, compulsively keeping the amulet in contact with his skin, and stepped up to the passenger side of the Prius.

The word "shotgun" was on my lips, ready to fall out, when it hit me: this was going to be his first-ever car ride. His first chance to move through the world at a pace faster than he could achieve on his own.

So I did the right thing and folded myself into the back seat. Jack got in in front of me, but Sam just stood there, staring at us through the window as if the world was ending. Again. Honestly, it lost a little in effect, because the world did tend to end so very often around us.

"What?" I asked, faking belligerence. "If you think I'm gonna ride around in the passenger seat of this fuel-efficient plastic hipster nightmare, where people might recognize me, you're double-deep-dish wrong. Get in the car, I want waffles."

* * *

The sky above the mountains was pinkening as we wound our way towards the town, but it was still shadowy on the road. When the trees cleared and we were suddenly among actual buildings after twenty minutes of close forest, we were all a little surprised.

We gave Jack's amulet a real trial run, stopping at the local park and strolling laps around it for a bit, nodding good morning to all the dog-walkers. When he'd grown accustomed to the feeling of people who weren't Sam or myself, and he hadn't blown up or melted anything, we moved on.

The diner catered to an early crowd, so I directed Sam to it between sips from the travel mug of coffee that I'd poured for myself before we'd left the cabin.

We pulled in about the time that people were trying to wake up for their shifts at work. I'm not ashamed to admit, I'd lost track of the days of the week, what with the whole 'not having a 9 to 5 job ever in life' thing I had going, so it was jarring to learn that it was actually a Thursday.

We piled out of the car ("Dean, can I get this pierced into my ear" from Jack, as he clutched the amulet to his chest while climbing out) and made our way into the diner. A perky middle-aged waitress pointed us to a table by the big plate-glass window, finished pouring coffee for the working stiffs lined up at the counter, and made her way over to us, menus in one hand and the steaming pot in the other.

"Hi, guys, welcome," she said with a smile. "I'm Irene, what can I get you today? Start you off with some coffee?"

"Water and an orange juice, please," Sam answered.

"Coffee and water for me," I said, holding out the sturdy mug that was part of the place setting.

She filled it with coffee for me, and then her eyes fell on Jack, who was staring at her, and starting to look a bit panicked.

This was going to be the first mundane human he'd actually spoken to, and he was choking.

I reached across him for the coffee adders lined up on his edge of the table, glad I'd taken my jacket off. When my skin pressed against his arm, I thought, very loudly and very clearly, _just water for me, thanks,_ and then withdrew with a packet of sugar and a tiny plastic container of creamer.

Jack cleared his throat. "Ahem. Sorry. Just water for me, thanks."

Irene nodded. "I'll let you all get acquainted with the menus, and I'll be right back with your drinks."

She turned away. When she'd wandered out of earshot, I put my hand back on Jack's arm. "You okay, kid?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I got nervous. I'll do better when she comes back."

Sam, across the table, was looking back and forth between us. "What just happened? Did he just read your mind?"

"Just a little parlor trick we've been workin' on," I assured him, sending a wink at Jack and stirring the creamer into my coffee with my spoon. Jack slipped the sugar packet back into the plastic holder. I didn't take sugar in my coffee, which is probably what tipped Sam off.

Sam eyed us both suspiciously, then shrugged and picked up his menu, so Jack and I did the same.

Irene came back a few minutes later, bearing a tray with our waters and Sam's juice. "Are y'all ready to order?"

Jack folded his menu and put it down, giving her his best smile. "What do you recommend?" he asked smoothly, as if he'd been chatting up waitresses his entire life.

Irene patted at her hair, seemingly unconscious of the action. "Well. I do like the mashed potato omelet, it's a local favorite."

"Then I'll have that, please. With a side of fruit."

She stared at him a beat longer, then blinked and wrote his order on her pad. "And you all?"

She got more and more flustered as Sam ordered an egg white and spinach omelet with sun-dried tomatoes, and I got blueberry waffles, as she made eye contact with each of us. Finally, she assured us that our meals would be right out, and practically fled.

Jack stared after her, a bit concerned. "Is she alright?"

I caught Sam's eyes, but he shrugged. _You're raising this child,_ he seemed to say, so it was up to me to explain how the world worked.

"She's fine, she's just a little overwhelmed." I held up a hand to forestall the _why?_ I could see forming on Jack's lips. "You know how people on TV are super-pretty? Like, the Avengers, and some of the shows you watch on Netflix, the actors in them are far more attractive than your everyday Joe Schmoe?"

Jack looked blank, and I remembered that the only people he'd ever seen before that weren't part of someone else's memories had been exclusively from those mediums.

I tried again. "Like, look around here. These people, they're not ugly, but no one would cast them in a hospital drama."

A glance around, then some more blankness from my ward. Ah, crap. Angelic asexuality. That complicated things a bit. Sam was snorting with suppressed laughter, but I'd started down this road, and I'd be damned if I didn't try at least a little bit harder.

"Isn't there anyone in here that you find more attractive, objectively, than anyone else?"

Another glance around, a bit of considering. "Dean, everyone here is beautiful."

I threw up my hands, and Sam about died laughing.

"Well, I don't know if you've ever really looked at yourself in a mirror, but you are an attractive human, as humans scale these things, and so am I, and so is Sam. We just kind of swept her off her feet a bit, all being here at once and focusing on her."

Jack nodded, taking in this information. "And humans don't expect attractive people to be nice to them?"

"Sad but true, kid. There are exceptions, of course, but attractive people tend to be more self-involved, less caring about anything besides themselves. It's called narcissism, and there's a reason it's named after a demi-god."

I spent a few more fruitless minutes trying to explain how we'd affected poor Irene to Jack, but gave it up when I saw our food coming.

"Irene, this looks amazing," I told her, watching steam curl enticingly off the golden spongy stack she'd placed in front of me and then looking up to meet her eyes. They were brown, and warm, and probably a bit wider than they would have been if the three of us hadn't waltzed into her diner this morning.

"Um. Ah. I mean, let me get y'all the syrup, be right back."

"Dean," Jack said, in a reprimanding tone, and I shrugged. I'd been stuck in the cabin with him just as long as he'd been stuck with me. It had been a long time since someone had treated me like a piece of meat, and I was enjoying it. I also shrugged off the sound of my name in that tone of voice – we'd have him back soon enough, and then it wouldn't hurt so much to hear other people say things the way he'd said them.

She slid me a carafe of maple and one of some sort of berry syrup, then backed away with a declaration of "Give me a holler if y'all need anything, ok?"

"Was she Southern when we came in? Or has she gotten more so since she started talking to us?" Sam asked, hovering a fork over his healthy breakfast.

I nodded, mouth full of syrup and waffle. "More so," I managed, swallowing.

We were silent a while, attacking our meals. Jack looked like Heaven was melting on tongue, so the omelet must have been a good choice as well. I know my waffles were amazing. Sam's breakfast had spinach in it, so I didn't bother asking him how it was.

 _Spinach._ For _breakfast._ On _vacation. Honestly_.

We were about halfway through our meals when Jack started the conversation back up. "So. Since I can probably open portals to whichever dimension we want, you guys need to make the decision: would you rather have Castiel and Gabriel with you when you face Lucifer and rescue Mary, or have Mary with you when you face down whatever is holding Castiel and Gabriel captive in their own private Underworld?"

There was a _huh?_ sort of noise, and we looked up to see Irene at the tableside, probably there to ask us how our breakfast was tasting, now looking tense and vaguely frightened.

"Writing a novel," I hastened to assure her. "Hit a tough spot, thought a change of scenery and a day off might help us get unstuck."

Irene relaxed. "Oh, that novelist from out by the lake? Don't let me bother you, then. Everything going alright here?"

We all agreed that everything was fabulous, and she walked off again, no doubt to text everyone she knew about the three weirdos in her diner.

"Nice cover story," Sam said approvingly. "Been hanging onto it for long?"

"Basically the whole time. I spilled it to the Target cashier when she started wondering why I was furnishing an entire household from scratch."

"It's perfect! Covers every bit of weird crap we could possibly talk about."

* * *

We finished up, paid in cash, and left her a nice tip. The sun was barely up, but we were awake, full of food, and ready to get on with our day.

"Bookstore?" Sam suggested, and Jack lit up. Literally, for a brief moment, then he got it under control and merely grinned. "So that's a yes, then."

I rolled my eyes at them. _Nerds_.

The bookstore had just opened for the day, so it still only contained the last of the night employees who shelved new stock, and a few yawning cashiers. Jack walked in like it was the Holy Land.

He and Sam immediately made a beeline for the science fiction section, grabbing up a handbasket on the way. I let them go, not expecting to see them again for an hour at least, maybe two.

Resigned to catching up with them later, I detoured through a few other sections and made my own way to the manga section. I picked up the volume of Full Metal Alchemist that I'd left off on last time Sam had abandoned me in a book store (text-xiled, I called it), and plopped myself down beside the shelves to see what trouble the Elric brothers would get into today.

Some time went by, measured by the flip of pages and the exchanging of volumes for the next one down the line. I glanced up when people passed the mouth of the aisle, and caught sight of Sam and Jack, who had filled up the entire handbasket, on their way to the teen fiction section.

I stood up, stretched a bit to loosen up after so long in one attitude on the floor, grabbed the volume that came after the one in my hand, and started to walk after them. Then, realizing that there was clothes shopping still to do today, I turned back and grabbed the next one as well for good measure.

I caught up to them while they were discussing John Green and slipped my choices for Jack onto their heaping pile.

Sam, of course, caught me, and slid my FMAs aside. " _Cat's Cradle? Storm Front_ by Jim Butcher _?"_

"Well, I'm assumin' you already got him all of _Harry Potter,_ and _Good Omens_ and _American Gods_ , yeah?"

Sam nodded, shrugging a bit, as if to say, _of course I did._

I saw a paperback copy of _Eragon_ in the pile as well but didn't mention it.

* * *

When we'd finally extracted ourselves from the bookstore, we made our way to the mall at the head of the main street. Jack was excited, and I was vaguely nauseous. Malls made me feel ill, full as they were with people who lived by an entirely different set of values than I did. Who cared what other people thought of you, right?

We started at one of the anchor stores, Sam passing Jack things to try on over the dressing room door and me sinking back into Edward and Alphonse until Sam threw something made of cloth at my head as well.

"Dude, come on. Just try it on, okay?"

I gave in with bad grace, but when I had the shirt on and was looking at myself in the mirror, I had to admit that my brother had picked out something that not only fit well, but also did that thing that I'd only heard of before – it _brought out the color of my eyes_. I wanted to punch him just for making me even think those words in that order, but it was true.

Now that I knew there was stuff here worth paying attention to, I tucked the Elric brothers back into a pocket, and started sorting through the racks, ending up with several other shirts, and a few pairs of non-denim pants as well. Sam beamed like a proud parent.

We finished up, and toted our bags through the rest of the mall for a few more hours, weaving in and out of shops as Jack noticed something on display in a window, or just wanted to go look, like when the thumping music of Hot Topic drew us in. We all ended up with something from _there_ , especially after we'd noticed the POP bobble-head toys for the _Supernatural_ book series – ' _now a graphic novel!'_.

I'd promised Jack lunch at the food court, which he was anticipating with the gusto of an epicure dining at a five-star restaurant. "Stop romanticizing it," I told him, but he didn't.

"Ooooh, there's a Panda Express," he cooed instead. Sam just laughed at us.

* * *

After lunch, we went back out to the park. I'd brought the football, and I wanted to show Sam how non-dysfunctional we were.

After Sam's fourth time fumbling a catch, he told us to hang on a minute, went back to the car, and returned with a neon-green hard plastic Frisbee.

"I'm much better at this, I swear," he said. "I didn't just learn about law in college."

"Nerd," I said, smiling. He _was_ better at Frisbee than he was at football, and though Jack and I were both terrible to start, we got the hang of it pretty quickly.

The park was beginning to fill up again, with more dog-walkers, and kids getting out of school, even a few real-live joggers. Hopefully Irene had spread our story around town, or we'd look pretty sketchy.

I had a thought. When our vigorous and not terribly well aimed throws brought me and Jack into speaking distance, I said, "Hey, can you tell if anyone is eying us with malicious intent?"

The game carried us away from each other again, but he focused for a minute, then shook his head at me from the other side of the wide, shifting circle we'd adopted.

"Plenty are interested, though," he added, when we'd taken a break to guzzle some water from a jug Sam had brought out of his car. "I can't feel that anyone means us any harm, but I would venture a guess that a majority of these people are more into watching us than watching their own children."

Sam shrugged it off. "That's the attractiveness thing again. In all of our travels today, no one stuck out to you as being more attractive than anyone else?"

"I did like the waitress this morning, she had a nice soul, I could tell."

"Works for me," I said. "I don't have to give him the talk about not getting his heart broken by some terrible person if he's not going to give them the time of day in the first place."

Sam corked the jug and waggled the Frisbee, so we jogged back out and kept going a bit longer, ignoring the ogling of the soccer moms and a few soccer dads until our shadows stretched like giants on the grass as the sun sank low.

* * *

"Yelp says this place has the best pizza in town," Sam said, pulling in to the parking lot of a mom-and-pop joint. The lot was almost full, so the status seemed honest, at least from the outside.

We crammed ourselves into the crowded entry, put our names in, and were told the wait would be about twenty minutes, and that if we'd like to wait in the bar area, they'd be sure to call for us in there.

I told the hostess that we were fine hanging out where we were. She nodded, moving on to the family who'd come in behind us while we edged off to the side and held up an empty piece of wall.

"Maybe we could go to a bar later," Jack suggested.

Sam and I looked at him, puzzled. "Do you _want_ to go to a bar?" I asked him. "You don't even drink coffee at home, where you control all the variables, and now you want to attempt intoxication in public?"

Jack reddened a little and wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'd like to try alcohol some time, yeah, but definitely in a controlled area, in case something goes wrong. It's just…"

His brown eyes darted up to mine, then away again, and he started twisting the fabric of his t-shirt in one hand.

"It's just that I know what you gave up to take care of me, and I wanted you to get the opportunity to get out and meet someone, maybe get laid."

A ripple of silence spread away from us, followed by another ripple of awkwardly forced conversation, as everyone in the entryway tried to pretend they hadn't been eavesdropping their sorry asses off.

I laughed it off, waving a careless hand at everyone. "I haven't _given anything up_ , Jack," I told him, choosing my words carefully. "You coming to stay was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Besides, I bet Sam here is just as deprived as I am."

I elbowed my brother as everyone around us leaned in a little, trying to catch the next bit. Luckily, the hostess called our name just then. I got the feeling she'd jumped us up the line a bit to save us from the situation, and I was profoundly grateful.

She led us through the restaurant, dodging around small tables where amazing smells were wafting from the most beautiful pizzas I'd ever seen.

"You can feel free to tell me it's none of my business, especially after what just happened out front, but can I ask what your situation actually is?" she asked, directing us into a corner table and placing menus in front of us.

"No problem at all," I said, giving her my most charming smile. She deserved a reward. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Sam. Jack here," I clapped him on the shoulder as he was taking the seat with its back to the room, "is our nephew. We look out for him, since we lost our other brother a while back. He'll always be a baby to us, you know?"

The hostess – her nametag said "Lori," with a smiley face after it – smiled. "That's lovely, thank you for sharing. Can I get you all something to drink?" Her accent slipped the tiniest bit on _luhv-ley_ , betraying a hint of England's stony shores, and Sam's shoulders tensed up the slightest bit as we took our own seats.

"A Coke, if you have it, please," I told her, shooting him a _dude, chill_ look. She nodded. Jack asked for a Coke of his own, successfully this time, and Sam asked for water.

"I'll be back in a bit to take your orders," she said, then moved away. Sam watched her go, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Jack was looking between us, at a loss.

"Sammy-"

"No. Dammit, Dean, when has anyone with a British accent ever _not_ stabbed us in the back?"

He gave me a minute think about it. I couldn't come up with anyone off the top of my head.

"What, you expected the British Men of Letters to just _give up_ after all the time and money they invested in their invasion here? We should have known they'd be back for us."

"Sammy…No, listen. Sam. Why would they stick someone here, in the middle of nowhere, and just hope that one day we'd breeze in and order pizza? She's prob'ly just a geek who watched one too many episodes of Doctor Who and got stuck with the accent when she uses the vocab."

Sam looked at Jack, who nodded in confirmation. No ill intent, which didn't necessarily mean she was clean, but at least she was safe. For now. If she _was_ an agent, her orders could change at any time.

Sam relaxed a little, though the skin was still tight around his eyes. We decided that for Jack's first real pizza, _of course_ he had to have pepperoni and cheese, though we conceded that Sam could get green peppers and mushrooms on half, so he didn't feel like the meal was a total loss, nutrition-wise.

Lori, apparently working double as a waitress this evening, brought our drinks and took our order. Her eyes lingered on Sam as she made her way back to the window, in a way that told me that she'd heard what'd been said in the entryway and probably wouldn't mind being the one to break Sam's dry spell.

Jack observed it all, plainly curious. "Can you guys teach me how to talk to girls? In case I ever want to try it out? I saw you do it, in your memories, so many times, but I get the feeling there's more to it than just saying the words."

"Not with that attitude, we can't," I said.

He looked at me, brows drawn together.

"They're not an exotic species, they're just people," I explained. "You just have to find somethin' that they're interested in – and if you're lucky, you're interested in it as well – and then get them to talk about it. Easy as pie. Mmm, pie."

Sam picked up the thread when I drifted off, distracted. "It _is_ something best employed in a bar, and Dean was a bit of an expert. He's better at the short-term, though, since his 'something they were both interested in' was usually one Dean Winchester."

Jack snorted a laugh.

I shrugged good-naturedly. "Works for me, but he's right, not really a good basis for long-term relationships. Except my longest one. Both Cas and I loved me very, very much." I thumbed my new ring in a circle around my finger and checked on the location of the waitress. "Better that than bonding over some nerdy show about a time-traveling alien who kidnaps people and shows them unimaginable horrors and makes them run a lot."

Sam's face was set to sympathy for the first part of my sentence, but as he caught up with the end of it, he puffed up into full-on lecture mode.

I interrupted him. It looked like our pizza was up, and I wanted to time this just right. "I don't want to argue about…," assuming the end of my sentence was going to be something derogatory about his precious show, he'd already begun his scoff-and-eye-roll, but I changed direction and finished with, "which doctor you think is better. I think Capaldi did a great job, but you're probably a Tennant fanboy. Ugh, figures."

Sam's mouth dropped open, utterly derailed. "You…what?"

"You guys watch Doctor Who?" Lori asked, landing a steaming pizza on the table between us, sounding thrilled.

"I'm not caught up," I said hurriedly, and nudged Jack's leg under the table with my foot.

"I haven't seen the last few seasons," he put in smoothly (and accurately – he'd only seen what Sam and I had seen up to the point where he'd watched our memories, he'd never actually seen them with his own eyes before), and we both very obviously turned to Sam.

My brother looked like he'd struck oil while digging a septic tank. "Yeah, big time. I'm really interested to see where Jodie Whittaker's going to take the role."

She practically sparkled back at him. "I have read so many fan theories in the forums online, but I think I've got it narrowed down to which ones are most plausible."

"I'm so far behind on the forums!" Sam said. "I know, it's terrible, the new season is starting up soon, and I'm going to be behind right from the start."

"I could, um, that is, if you wanted-"

She glanced around the table at the rest of us, suddenly unsure. "I don't want to take you away from your family-"

"Oh, please, take him!" I interjected. "He's only in town to visit for a few days, but he hasn't had anyone to talk to about this in months." A vision of a certain Queen of Moondoor danced through my mind, and I smiled. Charlie would definitely approve of using nerd stuff to _get some_.

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "We don't mind, I swear."

Lori hesitated a second longer, then used her order-taking pen to scribble her number on a napkin. She dropped it on Sam's empty plate. "My shift is noon to 8PM for the next few days, though I have to stay late tonight, since one of our staff called in sick. Text me, we can get together tomorrow, before or after, I'm easy."

She blinked, flushed scarlet – which looked striking with her blond hair and fair skin – and said, "I didn't mean, I just, oh, never mind." She vanished from our tableside so quickly she might have teleported.

Sam picked up the napkin and smiled at it, looking a little bowled over by his good fortune.

"And _that_ , my young apprentice, is how a person talks to girls."

Jack looked on the verge of bursting into applause.

Sam snapped out of his daze, recalling himself enough to squint at me suspiciously. "Did you-"

"Hey, look, pizza!" I interrupted, lifting a slice onto my plate, admiring the stretches of melted mozzarella it trailed like strings of saliva after a particularly passionate kiss.

Sam wisely let it go and pulled out his phone to put Lori's number into it, hopefully sending her a follow-up text. She'd be thrilled to hear from him; most likely she was in the back, beating herself up for blowing it just now. Unless she was a spy, in which case everything had all gone according to her plan. Whichever it was, my brother had pulled a number, and I had pizza, so this evening was going better than most, in my vast experience.

Speaking of … time to get better acquainted. I lifted my slice, closed my eyes, and took a moment to appreciate its bouquet, letting the herbs and spices tickle the membranes of my nose. Then I sank my teeth in, and all of life's hardships evaporated.

The cheese was just the right texture, not too thin but not rubbery, either. The pepperoni were perfectly spiced, enough to catch the attention but not overpowering. The sauce exploded onto my tongue, oregano and sage dancing together with the tomatoes in perfect harmony. The crust was the most ideal of deep-dish crusts, pillowy and soft on top – the better to tenderly cradle its wonderful cargo – crisp and ever-so-slightly greasy on the bottom, so that the whole miraculous shebang stayed stalwartly and valiantly unbending, with no chance of the extraordinary toppings being dumped into one's lap.

In all, it was the most perfect thing I had ever put in my mouth, and I had known some good food and some fine women in my time.

Through a lustful haze, I remembered that this was Jack's first pizza, and I didn't want to miss it, so I forced my eyes open just in time to see the space between the angel's arms on his Zep '77 shirt light up like a tiny sun, and to hear Sam say, "Jack," in a low, cautious voice.

Jack's amulet glowed for a second that lasted an hour, then he blinked open his eyes, pressed the hand that wasn't holding a slice of Heaven over his chest, and breathed deeply several times. Then he reached for his Coke – the angel's arms were empty again – and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly. "I knew from both of your memories that pizza was good, but…Chuck Almighty, this is really good pizza."

My phone pinged in my pocket. I checked it quickly: a photo text from Sam – a picture of Jack biting into his slice, with the caption "Jack's first steps – down the road to heart disease." I sent him back a pizza emoticon and a smiley face and stuffed my phone back where it came from. Who had time for that when this amazing creation was hovering in front of my face?

"We're setting the bar pretty high," I warned him. "If Sam doesn't end up marrying Lori, any future pizzas will pale in comparison to this one."

"Dude, shut up," Sam said, flushing to rival the tomato sauce dripping onto Jack's plate.

"Just eat your pizza, you won't regret it," I told him, and shut my eyes so I could be alone with mine again.

The whole orchestra of flavors waltzed across my tongue once more, and I spared a thought to be annoyed at Sam for not telling me that alcohol abuse dulled the taste buds. If I'd known years ago just how _good_ food could taste, I'd have … well, I'd have weighed 300 pounds by now, so I guess for the world's sake it was better this way, but it sure as hell explained a lot about how Dad had been able to forget about eating for days on end.

A sudden moan from across the table pulled me out of the dark tailspin of my thoughts, and I came back to the present as Sam pressed an embarrassed hand over his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just…it's just really good. I thought you guys were exaggerating."

* * *

By judicious application of the double-puppy-dog-eyes maneuver, and a mild to moderate application of ' _it's my first time_ , _I've never tasted ice cream with my own personal tongue_ ' guilt from Jack, we were able to convince Sam that _of course_ we needed to go get ice cream after dinner. He gave in with the understanding that we would be walking there from the pizza place, so we sauntered through the Pacific Northwest autumn evening, huddled in our hoodies against the slightly chill breeze.

The local ice cream shop had a line almost out the door, so we had to spend a good ten minutes sandwiched in between strangers, watching our words carefully, but Jack, the panderer, made sure to call us Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam as often as he felt could be gotten away with naturally, and the warm fuzzy feeling it gave me chased away any annoyance at his obvious brown-nosing.

As we shuffled closer to the front of the line, Jack became more concerned with sorting out what it was he wanted.

"What are you guys getting?" he asked, a little desperately, as another person paid their money and received their delicious frozen treat and the countdown ran a little closer to zero.

"Butter pecan," Sam said, with absolutely no hesitation.

I gave him an approving sideways glance, then told Jack about my strong preference for chocolate chip cookie dough.

"They all sound so good! I can't decide between the chocolate peanut butter and the strawberry."

"You know, you can get more than one scoop," I said, indicating the board behind the counter that listed the various ways they were willing to serve you up your diabetes booster shot.

Jack looked like I'd just given him the key to the city.

* * *

On the walk back to the car, tongues sliding around and around on cones to keep drips from hitting our fingers (well, Jack's and my tongues anyway – Sam had gotten his in a cup and was decorously ferrying it to his mouth with a tiny spoon), I brought up something that I wasn't sure would go over well.

"So, if you were serious about wanting to experiment with how alcohol affects you, I think this evening would be a good time to try it out."

They both turned identical concerned faces to me. Jeez, a guy abuses a substance for a decade, and then suggests they all do it for fun, and everyone acts like he's the bad guy.

"No, wait, hear me out. Jack, you don't know how it will affect you, so it makes sense that we have Sam here, as well as Cas's best wards to contain any … extra effects. We've all had a good solid dinner, and none of us are tired, so these are actually ideal conditions, and we should go over to the BevMo and pick up something to take home with us. For science. Tell me I'm wrong."

Sam's mouth did that thing it did when he knew I was right but he still wanted to argue with me. Sort of a twist, and a pucker. Jack looked interested, but still concerned.

"Look, guys, here's the thing. When Cas healed me that last time, when he was all juiced up on borrowed nephilim mojo, he fixed more than just my broken leg. I think he knew he had to make this one count."

My ring caught a passing streetlamp, glinting greenish in the yellow light it threw. "I can't really explain it, but when I stop to think about how easy it was for me to just walk away from the booze, it feels like he sort of … unhooked me from my baggage. I don't crave it, I don't fear it, it just sort of feels like a thing I could do every so often, and it would be okay. Does that make sense?"

Jack, bless his heart, looked convinced, and went back to happily licking his cold confection. Sam held my gaze a while longer, so I tried a little harder to explain, even though it went against every habit we'd ever developed between us to actual _talk_ about something.

"I don't feel like I need it any more. I can remember feeling that way, the burn that built up when I didn't have it, but that's gone now. He wiped my slate clean. Probably reset me to lightweight level while he was at it."

Jack cut his eyes at me, probably about my 'not needing it any more' comment. I'd woken us both with a particularly heinous nightmare less than a week ago, and he'd brought me down to the kitchen and made me hot chocolate, and we'd sat there together until the sun came up and we went on with our day.

I know I woke him more often than that – Alistair visited me in my sleep several times a week, along with Lucifer wearing a Sam or Cas suit, Cas being stabbed through the chest or dissolving into ink in a reservoir, and many, many other horrific ends for Sam or Cas or Jack himself – but my current situation was full of more hope and security than I'd ever had, so mostly when I woke up with a scream on the tip of my tongue, the feeling of my skin being clawed open or the feeling of clawing open someone else's skin lingering, I was able to tell myself: _you're safe, you're a good person, Jack needs you, go back to sleep,_ and I did.

Alcohol had dulled all that for me, to be sure, but it had dulled so much more. It no longer seemed like a worthwhile tradeoff.

But to do it for fun, with people I loved, in a safe space where they could make sure I didn't do anything stupid? I couldn't find anything wrong with that plan.

"I'll be careful," I promised him. After one more long, considering look, he gave a single nod, then scooped more ice cream into his mouth.

I breathed a sigh of relief. That could have gone better, but it also definitely could have gone worse.

* * *

Sam made sure we finished our ice cream and utilized the wipes he pulled from his glove compartment before he would let us into his car. I didn't take offense. We ate in Baby all the time, but ice cream seemed like asking for disaster.

We rolled up the main street on silent electric wheels, then took a right turn before we hit the mall. The BevMo was set a bit away up a side street, as if the townsfolk hadn't wanted it sullying their image with the tourists but hadn't wanted it too far away, either.

"There are so many kinds of wine and beer, and those are all readily available at restaurants if you want to just have them casually," Sam said. "We're after the effects of intoxication on a nephilim. I'm thinking we have to go for the harder stuff."

"Maybe the tiny room-service bottles?" I suggested. "That way, we can get Jack a variety of things to try out, and won't have to deal with whatever's left over in the morning?"

The Pruis slid smoothly into a spot facing the brightly lit storefront. The two people in the front seats didn't move, and I didn't want to rush them, because then they'd think I was too eager, and they'd scrap the whole plan.

I wanted to be annoyed at them, but the fact was, if Cas hadn't fixed me, they would be absolutely right to be as concerned as they were. Though I had been functional, that hadn't changed the fact that I had abused it so that I could avoid reality.

They were worried about me because they loved me, and I owed it to them, and to myself, to make absolutely sure that this wasn't, deep down, a completely horrible idea.

So I took a deep breath, shut my eyes, and clenched my left hand, feeling the band of my new ring bite into my fingers. I let the feeling of pain drag me down inside, delving deep into the shattered-and-rebuilt lean-to that housed my soul, and I forced myself to pull some memories from it.

I remembered how all of life's sharp edges would become too jagged, how the abrasive burn of booze had sandpapered them a bit, until I could bear them again.

I remembered the feeling of it, sliding warm down my throat, lighting a fire in my belly like a Franklin stove, sending tendrils of light through my veins, giving me the imagined power to deal with all the shit I had to deal with.

I remembered all of my dead, clamoring for my attention in my head, their sheer numbers threatening to drown me in grief and guilt, until whiskey or scotch could draw a shifting curtain of brownish haze across their shouting faces, giving me a small semblance of peace.

I remembered being able to fall into a deep sleep at night, the chemicals in my brain disrupting my ability to dream.

All of these things and more, but when I thought about it now, when I thought about the Dean that they had happened to, I felt a vast divide of Before and After. All I wanted was to give that Dean a hug, to tell him that there was a greater purpose ahead for him. One that he would get to _choose_ this time, rather than having it forced on him. One that would change him into a better person than he had ever allowed himself to suspect he could be.

I felt a relieved smile cross my face, and opened my eyes again, to see my family turned around in their seats, watching me.

"Yeah, I'm out of the woods, I think."

Sam glanced over at Jack for confirmation – another thing that should have annoyed me, but was actually a bit of a relief because I had lied to my brother so many times, I wasn't sure he'd completely believe me, even if he said he did, and having Jack there was just the kind of magical shortcut we needed.

"That was a deep dive, Uncle Sam," Jack said, his eyes still on me, round and impressed. "I think he's good."

Sam nodded, turned away, and reached for the door handle.

"Just…"

He paused at my single word, turned back.

"Just keep an eye on me, okay? I may be free from any physical or emotional compulsions, but muscle memory is a bitch, and I won't be able to handle what I used to handle."

Sam looked dubious.

"I know, I know, but if I get all angry and defensive, just remind me of this conversation, I promise I won't fight you any more on it. You know I always keep my promises."

He watched me a few seconds longer, then cracked a grin. "Let's do this, then!"

* * *

There was a steady stream of people moving in and out of the booze superstore, so we didn't feel like the town drunks for heading in for party supplies on a Thursday night. We exchanged nods with the cashier as we passed, then made our way over to the array of tiny bottles that stretched over part of one wall.

Sam grabbed up a handbasket, echoing the more wholesome errand that had kicked our shopping spree off that morning.

When faced with the dazzling assortment, sparkling and colorful like captured butterflies pinned under glass, both Sam and Jack turned back to me, imprinted ducklings waiting to be led by someone with more experience.

I scoffed, scanning the options. "All of the expertise, none of the stamina."

"Or the cirrhosis," Sam added helpfully.

I ignored him.

"Alright. I'll pick out for Jack and me over here. Sam, you're a big boy, you know what you like, go pick out as much as you think you're going to want, and choose some for Jack to try as well."

Sam headed immediately for the gin/vodka section of the wall. I'd always dismissed his preference for the clear liquors before, preferring to chastise myself with the coarser browns, as if I deserved to be hurt as I was self-medicating. I no longer felt like I had to be that person, but it was too late to tell Sam that, when I'd mocked him for so many years.

Instead, I considered the options in front of me, and thought out loud so Jack could follow.

"Definitely a spiced rum. Most first-timers like the taste better than other alcohols."

I grabbed some of those, and a few of the unspiced as well, though I shied away from the Bacardi 151. I left the coconut ones alone – too sweet, we didn't need him throwing up his delicious dinner.

"If we're going about it scientifically, we should get you a tequila or two as well. Nothing gets a person smashed faster."

Some tiny Patron silver and Patron gold went into the basket as well.

"We'll leave scotch for another time; if you're not accustomed the burn, then it's just a waste of money, because you can't taste the flavors. Too many people throw their money away on wonderfully aged booze, then complain that it tastes like gasoline."

We moved a little further along the wall, towards where Sam was slowly working his own way back.

"Gotta have whiskey, though. Burn _and_ flavor."

I grabbed some of the black label, and some of the blue, then looked up at my brother, who'd come close enough that we could converse without shouting.

He caught my eye, quirked a corner of his mouth, and nodded. I picked out another blue for him and dropped it into the basket as well.

"What did you come up with?"

He spread his hands, showing off his selections. "A few Tanquerays and a few Bombay Sapphires. A few Stolis and a few Grey Gooses. Geese?"

He added them to the basket, and I counted more clinks than he had named, so I poked through it, looking for what he hadn't wanted to name.

"Oooh, flavors! Sammy, you didn't want to share this with the class? Look, Jack, he's got a tangerine and a pomegranate."

Jack's eyes went wide. "Neat! Did you pick any out for me?"

Sam grinned, a little embarrassed. "I didn't know what flavors you like. Is raspberry okay?"

Jack nodded eagerly, and Sam reached out a long arm and pulled out a couple tiny clear bottles with tiny red fruits printed on the side, and a few with tiny peaches. He glanced sideways at me, raising an eyebrow. I half-shrugged. He nodded to himself, then picked out a cinnamon and a green apple.

Damn, I loved my brother.

We grabbed a few different mixers from the cooler, then hauled our loot up to the checkout stand, where the cashier bro watched, alarmed, as we unloaded our alcoholic cornucopia onto the conveyor belt.

"He just turned 21," I told the bro. "We wanted to give him as many options to try out as possible before he settled on a favorite to ruin his liver with forever."

The bro let out a multisyllabic _"oooohhhhhhh"_ of understanding, as if this was a perfectly normal and even admirable thing to do.

Sam said, "Wait," patted at his pockets, then produced a reusable bag as if by magic.

The bro nodded again. We clearly couldn't be terrible criminals, if we brought a reusable bag, his demeanor seemed to say. Our bounty disappeared into its creased canvas depths with muffled clinks and thuds – not all of the bottles were made of glass, it seemed – and Sam pulled several bills out of his wallet to cover it all.

We sauntered out of the store, Sam slinging the bag over his shoulder, and got back into the car, already discussing what we should put on Netflix in the background once we got home.

* * *

I checked the cabin's security system from my phone on the drive home, confirming that we hadn't had any visitors while we were away. A few deer, some rabbits, and a shit-ton of birds, but nothing person-sized. Not even any errant breezes, since I'd set the system to look out for those as well. Angels came with stealth-mode equipped, after all.

"Are you sure AFV is the best idea, Sam?" I asked as we stepped out onto the gravel driveway. "I get that not having a plot to follow is an upside for our purposes tonight, but Jack, do you even enjoy schadenfraude?"

Jack made a confused face, straightening up from the trunk holding one of the many bags of shopping. "Maybe? I'm not sure what that means, exactly."

Sam looked surprised that _I_ had known. "It means, enjoying the sight of unfortunate things happening to people. Sort of a " _I'm glad that's not me_ " thing."

I tried to help. "You know, if someone trips and falls, and you know they're not really hurt, you can laugh, because you find it amusing."

Jack looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe? We can give it a try. I'll try to keep my empathy set to _low_."

I unlocked the front door, disarmed the security system, and we hauled everything inside.

They got the bags all sorted, and I worked on hooking the laptop and the Chromecast up to the television in the living room. When the Hulu logo was glowing on the large screen as well as the small, I closed its shiny lid and went to find the others.

They were standing by the kitchen counter, sorting tiny bottles into types. I swept in, grabbed a Patron and handed it to Jack, and chose an unspiced rum for myself. "Bottom's up on number one of the night, kid. Might as well get past this now before we settle in, in case it doesn't agree with you."

Sam and Jack exchanged a glance and a shrug. Sam snagged a gin, and in a movement so beautifully synchronized we might have choreographed it ahead of time, we cracked the seals, tilted our heads, and poured it back.

I limited myself to a small swallow of mine, the burn accompanied by a slight tingle of apprehension at the memories of past-Dean I'd brought up, and then looked at my companions. Sam had stopped as well, though he took a breath, half-shrugged to himself, then finished it up.

Jack took the whole shot like a champ, though his face turned red and he coughed a bit once it'd gone down.

"Sorry, kid, should have had salt and lemon for you. I'm not sure it would have made it any better, but at least following a silly ritual might have distracted you from the afterburn. How do you feel?"

He wiped a hand over his face and shook back his hair, then looked at his hand, flexing his fingers a few times. "Warm," he said. "Feels warm all over."

"Do you want to take the amulet off?" Sam asked, setting his empty at the other end of the counter. "Or do you feel safer with it holding your power in close?"

Hmm, that one hadn't even occurred to me. "I vote take it off," I put in. "I don't want to feel guilty over a horrible burn scar on your chest if you melt it on accident, and I think the wards will hold. You can always put it back on later, if you feel your control slipping."

He looked back and forth between us, then reached up and slipped the cord over his head. There was an inaudible feeling of something sighing, expanding, relaxing in the room with us, a gentle shockwave. I imagined Cas's invisible wings unfolding, interacting as little as possible with the physical world but still existing, and I felt comforted.

I also felt warm. It had been a long time since I'd felt affected by this small an amount of alcohol, but that's what we were about tonight, so I might as well do this thing properly. I swallowed the rest of my bottle, then took Jack's from his unresisting hand and put them beside Sam's.

"Let's move this into the other room and give watching unfortunate things happen to other people a try. I suggest pajamas."

The others agreed. We each gathered handfuls of tiny bottles, and I stopped at the pantry to grab a box of Ritz crackers, just in case.

* * *

"Morning, Sunshine!" Sam said cheerfully.

Yawning over my coffee cup, I wanted to smack him square in his smiling face. My body was too accustomed to general misuse for a hangover to bother me, but that didn't keep me from feeling like I'd rather still be in bed.

"Do you think Jack's okay?"

"He'll be fine," I grunted. "Kid's got Wolverine's healing powers. Probably wake up as chipper as you."

Sam raised an eyebrow at me. "And how did we figure that one out?"

"I didn't stab him or anything, if that's what you're implying."

Sam rolled his eyes at me and poured his own cup of coffee. The happenings of last night were only visible in a tied garbage bag of recycling on the floor by the back door, and a few remaining gins we'd left on the sink, planning to argue about custody when we were sober again.

"I think last night went well. I was half-worried he'd be as immune as Cas," Sam said.

 _I found a liquor store,_ a voice growled in my memory. _I drank it._

It brought a smile to my face against my will, and I thumbed my ring again, my talisman. _Thank you, Castiel, for my health,_ I prayed to him. _Stay strong, wherever you are. We're coming for you._

Sam's eyes dropped to my hand at the gesture, as they had several times yesterday, but he again refrained from commenting or asking any questions. He could probably make a pretty good guess, even without my input.

"From a scientific standpoint," I made sure to sound as Vulcan as possible, "I found it _fascinating_ that the more he drank, the more human he got. With the AFV, I mean. At first, he was just as baffled as any angel as to why we'd find people fallin' over so hilarious. But then that cat jumped on that baby, and he lost it."

Sam nodded over his mug. "You'd think it'd be the other way around. If the human side of him gets drink-dulled, shouldn't the grace side of him become more dominant?"

I gave him a crooked smile. "Not necessarily. Think of it like the metaphor we lived out. If humans let themselves be humans, they're stronger than angels. A drunk human can beat a sober angel any day, if the angel plays by the rules. And they always do. I bet his grace was more confused than anything else."

He took a minute to analyze that, and seemed to like the result. "Pancakes?" he asked, when he'd finished thinking.

"You even have to ask?"

* * *

We went for a hike together that day, after I'd set up the slow cooker with dinner. Jack had indeed risen none the worse for wear, so we'd eaten Sam's delicious pancakes, showered up, packed lunch and some water, and set off into the mountains.

Sam quizzed Jack on Hunter lore, and we discussed the Underworlds we might have to visit. Luckily, the angels were not sinners, and therefore shouldn't be being punished in their afterlife, so there shouldn't be too much in the way of guards to fight past, or tortures to rescue them from. Hopefully, just a chat with the overseer would suffice.

"When people think of the Norse underworld," lectured Sam, despite the terrain, "they think Valhalla, where the Valkyries take warriors killed in battle to party with Odin forever, but apparently only about half of the warriors go there. Well, the leaders, really, or if you died in a really heroic way. The rest, the rank and file, go to Freyja's hall Sessrúmnir, in the field called Fólkvangr. The main difference is, with Freyja, since she's a war goddess, if she's ever called to battle, she will bring her host of the dead with her, to be her army. In my opinion, that's a much more likely option for dead angels than honeyed mead and roast boar for eternity."

I nodded thoughtfully, focusing on my breathing as we climbed a steep incline. "Yeah, if Chuck subjugated Freyja into workin' for him, that could definitely work."

Glancing over at Jack, who was staring out at the surrounding scenery in gentle awe, I felt an absurd sense of relief. "Good thing you're here, kid. With that info, and no other options, I don't think I would have hesitated to kick off a cosmic war, just so she'd bring her army to this plane with her, and then I'd have sorted out the rest once they got here."

Jack smiled. "I'd have expected no less. Glad to be of service."

"Freyja's a pretty wild chick, by all reports," Sam said. "She's a goddess of gold, love, sex, beauty, and fertility, but also sorcery, war, and death. Likes to cover all the bases. Likes cats, too – rides in a chariot pulled by two of them, along with her pet boar, and she has a cloak that can turn her into a falcon. She loves love songs – Dean, that'll be your department – and she's said to be pretty receptive to prayers, especially ones that concern love."

I wanted to object to the love song jab, but Sam steamed on before I could get a word in.

"She's married to Odin – or some relative of the Odin figure, the mythology is unclear since translations differ and a lot's been lost over the centuries – and they have a couple of beautiful daughters, but she still gets to sleep with whoever she likes. The gods of Asgard don't seem too upset about a little discreet adultery, especially since Odin is away a lot."

"She sounds like she might be willing to at least hear us out, if she still is all that she was," I said, remembering the hearth-goddess we'd had to execute. She had been good and kind in the mythologies, but time had robbed her of her power and her followers.

Jack nodded. "With all that going for her, I bet she'd be able to get Chuck to agree to a contract where she gets some sort of eternal power boost in exchange for running the place where his first children go when they die."

"Also, in some translations, Fólkvangr means 'field of the Host.' It all fits very neatly."

"Makes sense," I said. "What are our other options?"

"The other most likely place is Elysium," said Sam. "It's said that those who were 'close to the gods' were usually granted admission, rather than those who were especially righteous or ethical, though it later seems to let in people considered 'heroes' as well. By all reports, it's pretty chill, no labors or punishments or anything, where you eat sweet fruit and do whatever it was you enjoyed during life, all day, forever, though you can also do sports or play music."

"Sounds nice," I said, trying to keep the wistfulness out of my voice. Sounded great, actually. Would Cas actually want to leave? Once he'd been able to lay his burden down, how could I ask him to pick it up again?

"So who's in charge there?" asked Jack, and I snapped back to attention.

"Some stories say a son of Zeus named Radamanthys, who was also a judge of the dead, and a king of Crete. There's an old law credited to him, which says that anyone who defends themselves against someone else who initiated the violence, should not be punished.

"Other stories say that Kronos the Titan does the actual ruling there, and Radamanthys is his right-hand man. Kronos ruled the gods before Zeus overthrew and imprisoned him, and he's still sort of acknowledged as a harvest god. Yearly festival and everything."

"Sounds like a nice guy," I said, but Sam shrugged.

"Castrated his own father, not that Uranus was such a great dad. But then he and his sister ruled for a while, and it was called the Golden Age, when everyone was a such a good person that there wasn't a need for laws or anything, people just did the right thing.

"His son, Zeus, locked him up for a while, for eating his own children, but then eventually forgave him and put him in charge of the Elysian Fields. At least, that's what some of the stories say. Again, translations and interpretations differ, since they were all written by mortals anyway."

"My vote's with Freyja," said Jack. "Angels are soldiers all their lives. They're never taught to think for themselves. I think an afterlife of military drills suits them just fine. They wouldn't be happy with anything else, and Chuck wanted all his creations to be happy."

"Then why did he like Cas so much?" I asked. We had reached a crest and stopped for lunch on a large boulder, surrounded by rugged wilderness. "He kept bringing Cas back, forgiving him for breaking the rules, because he was _made_ to question the rules. Maybe in the Elysian fields, once they don't have to be soldiers any more, they can get in touch with the little bit of themselves that's human, and figure out something they actually enjoy."

"It's a nice theory," Sam said, handing around slices of an apple that he'd cut up with his hunting knife. (" _What?" he'd asked defensively at our disgusted looks. "I washed it first!")._ "Cronus's Golden Age lawful-good people sound more angel than human, anyway."

"So which should we hit up first?"

"Ah, there's a problem with that," Sam said. We raised our eyebrows at him.

He pointed his sandwich at Jack. "You don't even know how powerful you are. Some of the things I've read about Nephilim... Let me explain. So, you think you know what Underworld you want to open a way to. You think really hard about it, or focus, or however you do what you do, and you reach toward that destination, and you make a thin space in the universe between where you are, and where it is you want to go. Then you push through the thin space, and you're there.

"Here's the problem: if the place you're focusing on doesn't exist, by the time you push your way through to it, _it will_. You will create an entire universe around your intent. So we had better make damn sure we're going someplace real, and not just fiction made up by humans dead for thousands of years, or we're going to set a trap for ourselves and then fall right into it.

"And it'd feel real, too. You'd create the guardians I just told you about, and even a Castiel and Gabriel to rescue. But they wouldn't be ours. Ours would still be languishing in whatever Angel Heaven they're stuck in, while we walk away, thinking we've succeeded, and live Happily Ever After."

Jack's eyes were huge, and his mouth hung open a bit.

"Any way to guard against that?" I asked.

"Small details. If we see something we know isn't right, it's because Jack put it there, and we're in the wrong place."

"Tell me a few lies, then," Jack said suddenly. "Give me a few details about each place that aren't true, and if you see them when we get there, we'll know."

Sam shook his head. "It's a great idea, but if you're visualizing the wrong details, then we'll definitely end up in the wrong place. The best I can do is leave some details out, if that's okay with you. Nothing that could affect your safety, I promise."

Jack nodded, looking a tad daunted.

"As much as I like my 'angels get hobbies in the afterlife' theory, we met up with a Greek goddess a few years back, and she wasn't doing so well, while the Norse pantheon seems to be doing pretty well for themselves, if Thor's box office smashes are anything to go by. You can't tell me that's a coincidence."

Sam looked thoughtful. "Now, that's an idea. Why is a superhero based on myth older than the discovery of America so popular, even in this day and age of science?"

I waggled a finger at him. "One word: _nerds_."

"Shut up," he said, laughing.

* * *

We made it back down the darkening mountain, sunburned and ravenous, by around 6PM. I scooped us out some of the beef stew that had been cooking up all day, and we inhaled it like men who hadn't eaten in days.

Though, it turned out, Sam was eating quickly due to other priorities. "I'm meeting Lori after she gets off of work. We're going to the Starbucks to get coffee and talk about … well, you know what we're going to talk about."

I was curious enough at the change in his opinions that I ignored the perfect opportunity he had just given me to tease him. "So you're okay going in alone? You're sure she's not a spy for the British Men of Letters?"

He shrugged, scraping up the last dregs of stew. "Even if she is, we can still have a nice conversation. If she tries to kill me later, well, at least I got to talk to _someone_ about the possibility that Missy is being groomed to take over as a good guy. See, you have no idea what I'm talking about."

Jack and I exchanged shrugs as Sam went to rinse his bowl in the sink and headed off to the shower.

"Not our fault the BBC pulled it from regular streaming services," Jack grumped. "I'd be caught up if I could, if I didn't have to pirate it. I know everyone else is doing it, but it kind of goes against my nature."

"Speaking of pirating," I said.

"And don't start with Game of Thrones. Until you get an HBO GO subscription, it will just have to be the greatest saga of our age without me."

I laughed at him. I was planning on getting that subscription anyway, but I wanted to make sure he got through all of the various incarnations of Star Trek with his own eyeballs first. "No, I was gonna suggest the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. It's on Netflix, and we're on our own for the night."

"Oh," he said, then beamed, grumpiness forgotten. " _Neither_ of us have seen it! Sounds great!"

* * *

Sam didn't make it home that night, but he sent a text that contained our secret all-clear phrase around 11PM, so either Lori hadn't revealed her agent-hood yet, or she really was just a pretty geek who worked in a pizza shop in a small town in Oregon.

Either way, Sam had probably gotten laid, so this whole vacation was going pretty well for him, all told.

Jack and I got up at the usual time, swam a lap around the lake, ate cereal, did yoga, and had moved on to hand-to-hand in the clearing beside the house when the driveway crunched under Sam's tires.

He unfolded himself from the car and gave us a sheepish grin. "Hi, guys, what'd I miss?" He looked wrecked from lack of sleep, but relaxed, too, like something had drained the constant tension from his shoulders. Some _one_ , anyway, I thought to myself, snorting a bit.

"You're just in time for grappling, Princess," I called over to him. "Shower up and get your workout clothes on. I've taught Jack what I can, I wanna see if you can come up with anythin' I might've missed."

"Looks like he's already done his fair share of _grappling_ for the day," Jack added as an aside, and I stopped trying to get past his guard and held up my hand for a high-five, which he readily accepted. A _crack_ resounded through the woods, startling birds into flight and making my hand throb like a bitch. The kid gave solid high-fives.

Sam laughed along good-naturedly, not being able to muster the annoyance to roll his eyes. We weren't wrong, after all. "Sure, I'll be right out."

We took a breather while we waited, the breeze cooling our sweaty hides.

"Dean, when do I get to meet Sheriff Mills? And Alex and Claire? They're family, too, right?"

The thought of Jody Mills brought a smile to my face. "That's right. And, soon, kid. She'd've been out here the day after you were born if we'd've let her, but we warned her off, and besides, she's got a job, unlike us. Anyway, we need to field-test your amulet a little longer before I'd be comfortable takin' it on a road trip away from our safe space here. Is it something you'd be comfortable sleepin' in, for instance?"

He pulled a face. "Not sure. That's a good point."

"We might be able to ward the car, like the cabin is warded, and sleep in that," I suggested. "Sam will have to let us know if it can be done to something made of steel – iron and its alloys usually resist magic in a pretty hardcore way."

I smiled again. "She's heard so much about you from both of us by now, she's going to welcome you like another son. Man, she was so friggin' happy for us when she met Mary for the first time, and I'd never heard her so sad when we told her what happened. And we've been through some sad shit together, let me tell you."

"When we start making final plans for the invasion of another dimension, she's definitely on our strategy committee," said Sam, appearing on the step again and balancing on one leg to stretch a quad. "We're not leaving this universe without consulting her first. She'd kill us both if we tried."

I nodded in agreement. "Alex is pretty chill, trying her best to be normal, but she's seen some shit in her time as well. And Claire … well, Claire is Claire. She didn't take the news about Cas very well. In all honesty, if she catches wind of the idea that we're plannin' on goin' after him, she'll want to come along."

Sam nodded, stretching first one arm, then the other, across his chest. The thought had occurred to him as well, it seemed.

"And this isn't a 'the more, the merrier' kind of excursion, no matter how friendly a chat we plan on having with whichever underworld guardian we encounter?" Jack asked, head tilted to the side.

"Nothin' ever goes according to plan in this business," I told him. "Haven't I taught you that one yet? I'm not riskin' the girl that Cas thinks of as his daughter. I've done some horrible things to him in our time together, but I'm pretty sure that'd be the one thing that pushed him over the line into 'never forgiving me ever again' territory."

"Not sure that's possible, from what I can tell," Jack said, taking Sam's outstretched hand and letting himself be hauled to his feet. "He loves you for all your broken and tarnished bits, as well as the smooth and polished ones."

Luckily for me, Sam engaged Jack in a wrestling match at that point, so neither of them were watching while I stared up at the sky, trying to keep my eyes – and the echoing void in my gut – from running over. _Damn, kid, you know just what to say to knock the wind out of a guy_.

* * *

After the unarmed combat lesson, Sam went through the rest of the weaponry with Jack, testing his proficiency, supplying helpful hints where I had not. For example, Jack was thrilled when Sam reached into a bag and brought out a few katana.

Swords were not my deal. Give me a big fuck-off knife any day, and 'elegance' can go hang. I did a few pliometric exercises up and down the driveway to give myself something to do while Sam introduced Jack to some stances and some elementary kendo moves.

"Practice these for a bit every day. Make sure you have good form. Muscle memory will do the rest for you," Sam said, and dug a wooden practice sword out of the bag as well, propping it up on the porch like it lived there now. Which, of course, it did.

I balanced up into a headstand, then breathed through the pressure and watched them for a bit, upside-down. The amulet-and-wards issue was really the only thing holding us back at this point. Jack was as good as Sam and I had been when we'd started.

Better, because for the longest time, for Mom's sake, Dad had pretended there was no such thing as monsters, and let us believe what we wanted about why we never stopped chasing whispers all over the country.

We had never lied to Jack. I found it difficult to see how Dad had managed lying to us. He _knew_ the monsters were real, he fought them regularly, and it still took him forever to finally teach Sam and I to defend ourselves. It was a miracle that none of the ones he'd missed had come for us one day while he was out.

Hmm. Mom had always said angels watched over us. _Thanks, Cas_.

* * *

When Sam was satisfied, we showered up and ate lunch, then piled into the car. We were calling it research, but the internet was on fire with how good the new Thor movie was, so really we just wanted to go see it.

* * *

In the car on the way back, my phone buzzed with a security alert.

I focused in hard, feeling a tingle of adrenaline in my fingertips, even though we were at least a half-hour away. The relevant camera spooled footage over my screen, and I found myself grinning in relief. A problem, yes, but not a dangerous one.

"Dean, what's up?" Sam asked.

"We've got a visitor at the cabin," I said.

The car swerved a little as his hands jerked, but he steadied them before he drove us into the sparse oncoming traffic. "What?"

"Just some of the family dropping in for a visit, nothing to worry about," I said. Sam did not look reassured, but Jack looked disturbingly eager. I really needed to take the kid on a Hunt, to show him it wasn't quite the glamour job he was imagining, but his birth had scared everything into hiding, and they showed very little sign of wanting to poke their heads back up, even half a year later. For all his champing at the bit, I had my doubts that he could actually kill anything, if confronted with the choice.

And it's always a choice, I reminded myself, as I had lectured Jack over and over when Lucifer's grace-memories waxed strong. I wasn't the only one who needed a midnight cup of hot cocoa in the kitchen every so often. I only hoped Sam was okay, all alone in the empty bunker with no one to sit with when _his_ nightmares felt too real.

The things I had done while under the influence of the Mark of Cain would always haunt me. There's always a choice, to take away a life, and I had chosen wrong so many times while my soul was demon-twisted. I had almost scared away the person waiting at the cabin, and it would have hurt Cas deeply, no matter what Jack said.

"Dean," Jack's voiced drifted to me from miles away. "Pull up. Wherever you're going, there's no reason. Come back."

Sam shot me a worried glance in the mirror, but he gave another one to Jack. He hadn't noticed anything wrong, but then, we were crap at feelings, my brother and I. Jack was cheating, but he still deserved credit for noticing.

"Well spotted, kid. I'm good now, thanks. Guilty memories are the worst."

Sam made an ' _ah!'_ sort of face. He knew me well enough, and knew what things I felt guilty over (that list was damn long, but the list of living folks we called family was short), to put together who was waiting for us.

I caught his eye in the rearview, shook my head. Jack deserved a nice surprise every now and again. How often was the person breaking into your house _not_ there to kill you? It wasn't something that he was going to get to experience much.

To distract him – I had no doubt he'd see it for the diversionary tactic that it was, but I was hoping he'd roll with it anyway – I asked, "So, Jack, what's the news on Angel Radio these days? Six months of inactivity enough to convince them you're not the walking apocalypse?"

Jack gave me a cool look, telling me I hadn't fooled him, but he warmed to the topic. "There actually seem to be factions forming; I think I'm getting a fan club. There are regular broadcasts from a few individuals that I'm getting better at recognizing, asking me to save them all, expressing their faith that I'm going to bring peace and happiness to the world."

"Kelly must be gettin' through to some people upstairs," I said, smiling at the thought of her, standing in the doorway of her eternal Heaven where she wasn't breaking any rules, lecturing any passing angel about her son and how proud she was of him.

He smiled back, proud of her in turn. "So, who's at the house?" he asked.

"Someone you'll be happy to meet," I said. "Stop trying to spoil it."

"How do you suppose they found us?" Sam asked, carefully selecting a gender-neutral pronoun.

"Deed to the cabin, probably. A little digging in public record – and in not-so-public-record – was bound to turn it up eventually. And they've probably been looking for a while. You know how determined they can be."

* * *

We passed a car parked on the side of the road a mile or so before our driveway. Sam snorted a little at the sight of it.

"You recognize it?" Jack asked, searching for clues. If Sam had a memory of seeing it before, then maybe it was in his head as well.

"Nope," Sam answered, unfortunately for Jack. "I just recognize when someone's trying to sneak up on us. Security systems were never our strong suit before, so they're probably not expecting us to have one now."

"Probably can't credit us with bein' able to use technology well enough to have one," I said as we rolled to a stop at the head of the driveway. "She thinks we're too old and dumb."

Jack popped out of the passenger seat, looking up at the house. He would have bolted for it, but I had a hold on the back of his jacket, holding him in place. "It's a she?" he asked. "Who would try to sneak up on you, though?"

"Family," I replied. "'Specially when they're not happy with something you've done, or something they know you're plannin' on doin' in the future. Come on, let's go say hi."

We crunched over to the porch, where I made a big show out of turning off the security system from my phone before unlocking the door. I waited a few beats.

Jack made an impatient noise, but Sam was grinning. "Think she's going in the back?"

"Yeah. I want to give her a chance to get settled in some mysterious and accusatory pose before we bust in and ruin her carefully crafted scene." She's a good kid, but _wow_ , such a teenager.

"Alright, lights, camera, _action_ ," I said, whipping open the door.

Claire Novak was sitting in a chair that she'd pulled to the center of the entryway, positioned so that the porch light illuminated her figure dramatically. It was actually pretty impressive, given how little time she'd had.

"Hi, Claire, nice of you to drop by," I said, flipping on the living room light and ruining the whole effect.

She let out a gusty sigh. "You've got cameras now? You're kidding me! Since when?"

"Since me," said Jack. They had followed me in, Sam closing the door behind them and re-arming the security system.

"Who's 'me'?" she asked, standing up so she could examine him better.

"Hi, my name is Jack," he said, holding out his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Claire squinted at him, and at his hand, but decided he wasn't a threat, and shook it. "I've heard practically nothing about you, except Jody thinks Dean and Sam are probably ruining you without a woman's touch around the house."

"She's probably right," I said. "Come here, already."

Claire happily gave me and Sam each a hug. She didn't notice the way that Jack was flexing the hand she'd touched, looking a little dazed, but I did. _Hmm, interesting._

"Wait, wait, I'm mad at you," she said when she'd pulled back from Sam. "You're planning a rescue, and you're going to try to leave me behind. _Don't_ deny it."

I held up my hands, palms out in surrender, then moved into the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge. She followed me, still waiting on an explanation, but accepted a bottle as well, if only to have something to do with her hands. The chipped black polish on them glinted in the kitchen light, though her eyes looked tired, and her hair looked tousled and unwashed. Our cabin was a pretty long drive from anywhere, it seemed.

The others had followed, so this seemed like as good a room as any for a chat, especially since Sam was still using the couch as a bed. "Have a seat," I told her. "Want some leftover stew? We were planning on warmin' some up for dinner."

"Ugh, you're worse than Jody. She's always trying to feed me. She probably thinks I'm anorexic."

"She loves you, and she thinks that if you're going to Hunt, then you need to eat better," said Sam, who had taken up a position leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his broad chest. "It comes up during our phone calls a lot."

Claire made a small _oh_ noise, before sitting and meekly accepting a bowl of stew.

Jack took another chair at the table, apparently unable to keep his eyes off of her.

"What's your deal?" she asked him between mouthfuls.

"You're the first human I've met besides these two that knows what I am," he said. "It's a weird feeling, kind of like being naked."

She raised blonde eyebrows at him, and he blushed. I'd never seen him do that before.

She turned to me. "Dean, stop teaching him metaphors. You suck at them, and you're going to ruin him, just like Jody says."

I shrugged at her. "Can't stop, won't stop," I said, then grinned when she choked on her next spoonful.

* * *

We reconvened around the table when the dishes were cleared. Claire had come a long way, but she didn't seem like she was willing to wait until morning. I was going to make damn sure she at least got a shower in before she crashed, though. Seeing her hair all greasy gave me a feeling of paternal concern, to which I had no right.

"So," she said as an opener. "You guys are going to save Castiel, right?"

"' _Save'_ is a strong word, with connotations that don't apply here," replied Sam. Undeterred by her unimpressed look, he pressed on. "When we figure out where it is that he went, we're going to find our way in, and _ask_ him if he'd like to come back. It's up to him. He lived a long, long, _long_ life. If he wants to rest now, we'll have to accept that."

"What? How is that fair to the rest of us? We _need_ him!"

I was startled when she gestured at me, including me in the _we_ part of the _needing_. She wasn't wrong, but I hadn't expected her to be so perceptive. Then again, I was wearing the ring again today, and she was a smart kid, after all.

"If he doesn't want to come back, it would be selfish of us to ask him to, just for us," I told her.

"But- You- He- Ugh!"

"Not all of us speak Teenager," Sam said.

She shot him a venomous glare, and tried again, speaking slow and deliberate, as if to a particularly slow child. "But _Castiel_ and _Dean_ are _soul mates_. How could he think of not coming back for _him_ , at least, if not for me, the girl he _orphaned_?"

Jack made a noise then, sort of an audible wince, and I had a thought.

"Jack, did Cas pack Jimmy Novak into the grace-memories he left you?"

Claire whipped around to look at him, and he became fascinated by the floor as he gave a single nod.

She let him off the hook after a long minute of silent staring, in favor of turning back to me. "We can get into that later, when I've had a shower and some sleep. Right now, we're talking about you and Sam, and how you're going to ditch me. I deserve to be there. That way, if he _doesn't want to come back_ ," said sarcastically, with a withering glare at Sam, "I can at least say a proper goodbye."

"Bullshit," I said. "If you're there, he'll come back out of guilt, and you know it. That's not fair to him at all."

"But you're going to take Jack, aren't you?" she asked. "How is _that_ fair? I've been hunting longer than him."

"Because Jack is a being of unimaginable power, and we can't get anywhere near the Angel Afterlife without him, and it'd be rude to ask him to open the door for us and then tell him he can't walk through it."

She studied Jack, squinting. "Nope, I don't see it."

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. "Jack, take off the amulet."

"What? Oh."

He had forgotten he was wearing it, which was an excellent sign in terms of comfort during long-term usage. He reached into his collar and scooped it out, then pulled it over his head and laid it on the table.

When he pulled his hand away, his power eased through the room like the warm exhalation of a sleeping behemoth, and Claire's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "Holy crap."

"Yeah, that's a pretty apt way to describe it," he said, shrugging. "I get this angelic power in exchange for no mom, hiding behind protective runes, and people trying to kill me for the rest of my life, and I can't even use it, or those people would find me immediately."

She gave him a reassuring, though shaky, smile. "That's what Dean and Sam are here for. When those bad people show up, the Winchesters stop them. And the ones that come after them. And the ones after them, too. Eventually, they quit coming."

Well, that was pretty flattering. Despite everyone that we'd lost, I guess we'd saved some, too. Enough to make Claire think we were winning, anyway.

Jack smiled back. "So I've heard."

Claire pounced on his word choice. "They won't let you hunt, either? _You?_ Well, I feel better now. I thought they didn't want me hunting because they thought I was weak."

"Haven't they lost enough people, to not want to lose any of the ones they have left?"

"They don't get to decide that for me!"

"And would you rob Castiel of that choice as well?"

She stopped, mouth open. The two young people stared at each other across the table, having an apparent moment of silent understanding that my brother and I were not privy to, despite sitting right there.

Eventually, she blinked. "Dude, we have _got_ to get you to Jody's Rehabilitation Home for Monster Children, before they turn you into one of them and it's too late."

"Too late for what, exactly?" asked Sam archly.

"Too late to let him be a kid, instead of a Hunter," she said. "He's already talking like one."

"I _want_ to be a Hunter, though," Jack interjected.

"As someone stuffy and old once said, the monsters will always be there. Take time for life, before you give it up to chase death."

"You didn't listen when I tried it on you," I told her. "What makes you think it'll work on him?"

"Life hasn't ruined him yet. I don't have any path except this one left. I know what's out there, so I have to fight it, but he-" she cut herself off, turned to him, " _you_ can still do anything you want!"

A corner of Jack's mouth quirked up, amused but ironic. "She's coming to Disneyland with us, right?"

"Wha-" she squawked, caught wrong-footed.

"Bet your ass she is. Special Minnie Mouse ears for this one."

She recovered quickly. "Only if you wear them, too."

"Deal," I grinned back at her. "Little red bow and everything."

"And when is this family trip happening, exactly?"

I gave a majestic sort of hand wave. "The _future_. We'll get the whole gang together, while the monsters are all still in hiding, and road-trip it down to SoCal, where we will give The Mouse a metric fuckton of our money."

"And the whole gang is…?"

Her eyes glinted dangerously, and I realized I'd been led into a trap, back to the part of the conversation I'd been trying to avoid.

"Look, you can't come with us to get Cas because we don't even know where we're going yet," I said. "I _can_ promise you we won't leave without coming to see Jody first, so it's not like we're going to vanish without saying goodbye."

"Speaking of vanishing, Jack, can you check her for any of Cas's grace?" Sam asked, seemingly apropos of nothing.

She tilted her head at him, confused. "What? Why?"

"Because there's something upstairs that you should see, and Jack's answer will determine whether or not you can touch as well."

* * *

Jack deemed her clear, so she was able to place her hand flat against the translucent barrier that separated her from the man who'd worn her father's face, while tears streamed down hers.

She accepted a hug from me then, stepping in to my chest and letting my arms go around her, her head turned to the side so she could still see the casket, and we breathed together until the ache was manageable again.

Then Jack told her she could sleep in his bed, since he didn't actually need to sleep that night, and I got her a clean towel and washcloth, and a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and pushed her into the bathroom.

"Use Sam's shampoo," I called though the door. "I want to see if it's magic or not."

* * *

In the morning, her hair did look clean again, but not magically shiny, so I guess the magic wasn't in the shampoo after all. She wandered in around 11AM, looking much better than she had the night before, though there were still dark circles under her eyes.

With the things she'd seen, I guess she also had a lifetime membership to the nightmare club.

She came into the kitchen when we were in various states of sweaty exhaustion, trying to muster the strength to make ourselves lunch, and she did a sort of double-take at the sight.

"Good God, do any of you ever do anything besides work out? Look at you, you're all disgustingly healthy." Her eyes kept catching on our pectorals and skidding away, and she seemed to be having a hard time meeting our eyes.

I grinned over at Jack. "She thinks you're cuuuuute," I sing-songed at him.

"Shut up!"

"Yeah, I know, I saw it when I tested her last night."

"What? That was private!"

"It's okay, Claire. He _is_ pretty cute. Not that big a secret."

She turned so red, I was expecting steam to pour out of her ears.

"Aw, thanks, Uncle Dean, I didn't know you'd noticed!"

"ANYWAY," she said. "Moving on and NEVER MENTIONING THAT AGAIN, do you guys think you could give me some tips? Hunting, and fitness, since you all seem to be such experts all of a sudden."

"Depends. Where does Jody think you are right now?" said Sam.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm assuming she thinks I'm here with you, because I am absolutely certain that you've already called her. Nice try."

* * *

Cue another montage. Sam went back to the bunker after hanging out with us a few more days, but he said he'd come up with several new angles to research, including how to bind a warding to the interior of a moving vehicle.

Claire stayed on with us, working with Jack and me to get stronger, better. Jack gave up his bedroom and surfed the couch that Sam had slept on, until I ordered a new twin bed and set it up in my room. Neither of us had much in the way of what you could call "stuff," and I'd spent so many nights in single hotel rooms with Sam, it felt good to sleep in a room where someone else was breathing again.

We had regular calls with Jody to check in, and I could tell she had mixed feelings about the whole thing, but she knew Claire would be Hunting anyway, and at least this way she stood a better chance of surviving. Jody went out of her way to engage Jack as well, until they were fast friends.

Jody insisted that Claire continue the schoolwork that she was skipping, so generally we spent mornings on working out and training, and afternoons on history, grammar, science, and high school mathematics, with random cardio breaks to get the blood pumping when the kids' eyes started to cross from boredom.

I worked on Claire's car whenever I had the chance. I didn't like the thought of it quitting on her at an inopportune moment. Sometimes Jack came to watch me, and I taught him about cars the same way Bobby had taught me.

I had a chance to ask Jack about Jimmy Novak one afternoon while Claire was in the shower.

"Yeah, he's in there, as sort of an echo. When I met her, I got Castiel's memory of Jimmy's memory of holding Claire when she was born, which was way weird. I'd seen her through your and Sam's memories, and through Castiel's, and through Castiel's memory of Jimmy's. It was surreal to actually see her for myself."

"So, what do you think of her?"

Jack blushed, which was exactly what I'd been expecting. He watched her when he thought no one was looking, studied her form more intensely than warranted when they were sparring, averted his gaze whenever she looked back at him.

"Is she giving you feelings?" I asked, not even stumbling on the word. I actually _wanted_ to discuss this with him. It felt important.

"I … think so? I mean, I have all of your feelings, and Sam's and Castiel's. It's kind of hard to sort out my own. But sometimes, like when we're swimming or something, I feel things that I'm pretty sure aren't fatherly."

"But not in a sexual way?"

"I like being near her, I like when she smiles, I wouldn't mind getting closer to her, but I'm not sure I've got that extra…" He made an expressive hand gesture and trailed off, unable to find a word to describe a sexual attraction he did not feel. "I don't think I'm capable. Is there something wrong with me?"

"Check out some articles on asexuality, next time you've got a break from schoolwork. It's not just an angel thing. There are all sorts of humans who have no interest in sex. Nothin' wrong with it, but just like you can't describe to me what it feels like to desire someone sexually, I wouldn't be able to explain to you what it feels like to be asexual. It's just a different way to be wired."

"Castiel was, though?"

I nodded. "I believe so, yes."

"But he loves you?"

"More than the entire universe, if everything he's done for me proves anything."

"And it doesn't bother you? You've been heterosexual for your entire life, from what I've seen in your head, with a few minor exceptions when you were extremely intoxicated."

I shrugged. "He is who he is, I can't change him, and I wouldn't if I could. When we get him back, we'll do whatever he's comfortable with. If he needs me to farm out my sexual needs to kind strangers, it won't be anything I haven't been doing my whole life anyway."

"But you haven't been doing that. Not since before I was born."

"I'm his," I said simply. "Pickin' up random chicks in bars was starting to feel like cheating on him, so I stopped. So you see, I haven't given anything up for you, like you seem to think. I'm just in a committed relationship with an asexual guy who's temporarily dead, so he can't approve or disapprove. Not something I can explain to a one-night-stand."

"I see." And then, with the casual selfishness of youth – so rarely shown by him but increasing the more time he spent with Claire – he turned it back to his own situation. "What do you think Claire thinks about sex?"

"She's most likely a little bit damaged in that department. Raised religious, turned Hunter who believes in nothing, she's probably had to use sex as a means to an end more often than she'll care to admit, rather than it being an act of tenderness. I think what she's got now, with Jody and Alex, and with us, is the longest relationship she's had since Cas ran off with her dad's body."

"So?"

"So it could go either way. Either she'll want more than you can give, or nothing at all, or something in between that you'll work out between the two of you that meets both of your needs. Just work on being her friend for now. She'll let you know when she's ready for anything else, if she ever is."

"I can do that."

* * *

Sometimes, Claire helped make dinner. Sometimes, she took a look at the ingredients we were working with, said something along the lines of, "Oh, _hell_ no," and took off for town in her rust bucket, returning to the cabin a few hours later smelling like fast food.

Sometimes she took Jack with her, saying that he needed real food, and that salad didn't count. They stayed gone longer when they went together, and the house felt dark and empty, with only my personal void to keep me company.

On one such occasion, as Jack was pulling his shoes on, I joined him on the couch to lace up my own.

Two surprised young faces turned to me. "Don't worry, children, I'm not going to tag along and harsh your buzz. I'll take my own car and seek out the company of adults."

Claire stood watching me, fists on hips. She was growing up fast, her awkward angles softening and the haunted cast of her face easing with time. When I stood and reached for a hoodie, she swatted my hand away and handed me the leather jacket from the closet instead.

She messed with my hair for a bit, up on her toes to reach, and I bent my knees to accommodate her. When she stepped back, she gave me a final critical once-over, then nodded.

"I'm not looking to impress anyone," I told her, trying not to whine.

"You're going to, anyway," she declared. "Come on, Jack, the movie starts at 8 and I want to grab food first."

They clattered down the porch steps and got into her car, its doors creaking unhealthily. I was going to have to teach Jack to drive soon, I realized, watching them from the front door. He had a driver's license, after all – albeit a fake one – so he might as well gain at least the semblance of independence, even if he couldn't utilize it yet.

Sam was working hard on car-bound wards. I was looking forward to giving Jack his first car and telling him he could go anywhere in it.

When their taillights disappeared, I got into my own car, cranked up the tunes, and followed behind them. I wasn't worried about catching up; Claire drove like a person who'd left the stove on at home. My car was a nondescript nothing, picked up in a used car lot and fixed up at home. Cas's pimpmobile was temporarily retired.

I pulled in at the local bar and grill about a half-hour later, craving a greasy hamburger like a newborn vamp craves blood. The joint was hopping, and with a glance at my phone's calendar, I determined it was probably due to it being Friday night. Good. The more people, the better. The echo from the piece of myself that I was missing was harder to hear when there was more going on.

I lifted myself onto a stool at a table in the wood-paneled bar area, resisting the urge to fiddle with my hair as random people gave me appreciative glances. The barmaid, a redhead in a tight t-shirt and short shorts whom Chuck had blessed with long, long legs and wicked green eyes, appeared beside my tiny high-top.

"What can I get you, handsome?"

"Whatever dark beer you have on tap, and a burger and fries, please," I told her, grinning.

"A man after my own heart," she told me, scratching my food order on her pad with a flourish of her pen. "I'll be right back with your beer."

I watched her walk away, and she caught me doing it, and gave me a smile over her shoulder. _Damn._ It had been a while.

I took some time to study the room. It was dimly lit, playing an old Black Sabbath song low in the background, and filling up with people who seemed to be having a good time.

 _Or were getting there_ , I thought, watching a table of college girls do a round of shots across the bar.

Then the leggy redhead was back, depositing a frosty mug of something thick-headed and dark as sin on the table in front of me. "House specialty," she said. "They brew it just up the road."

She lingered, one hand on her hip, apparently waiting for something. "Go on, try it."

 _Didn't have to tell me twice_. I threaded my fingers through the handle, feeling the icy coolness against my palm, and hoisted the heavy mug to my mouth. Cool liquid spilled across my tongue, evoking coffee and chocolate, oak and hazelnut. "Holy shit," I said, staring into its depths.

She grinned, appeased. "That's what I like to see. Hard to find a man who enjoys a dark beer these days. Be back with your burger in just a minute."

She left me alone with my truly astonishing stout. I sipped it slowly, constantly reminding myself that not only was I a lightweight now, but that it would be a crime to rush this. It was a beer to be savored.

My head had begun to buzz pleasantly, just the slightest bit, by the time she came back with my food.

I thanked her, but she said, "No, I'd like to watch this, too, if that's okay. I'm between orders, and you're entertaining."

"Suit yourself," I said, reaching for the burger, which looked like the Light of Chuck himself was shining on it in its red plastic basket.

Tasted like it, too. My eyes shut of their own accord, and I let out an involuntary moan. " _Damn_ , that's a good burger." We had chicken most nights, at the cabin. Flavored and cooked different ways, yes, but it could never compare with _this_.

When I'd swallowed, and opened my eyes again, she was sitting on the other stool across the table, head propped up on a fist with her elbow braced on the table, pupils blown wide in a way not accounted for by the low light.

"I'm sorry if this is unprofessional, but that was pretty hot," she said. "You make those noises in bed, too?"

I felt a warmth at the base of my spine, and despite my best intentions, I let Little Dean take the wheel.

"I've been known to." Flirting was a reflex, a survival instinct at this point. "Mostly it's the people I'm in bed with who make the noises."

Her mouth opened in a breathy half-gasp. She gazed at me a beat more, licked her lips, and then someone yelled _Angela_ through the short-order window, and she jerked like she'd been hit with a cattle prod.

"Enjoy your burger," she murmured, sliding off the stool, making sure I saw the way her legs completed the maneuver.

 _Angel-a, huh?_ That was a sign if I'd ever heard one. I looked down at my ring – I wore it everywhere now, when I wasn't sparring with the kids, and Claire had given up on the knowing looks when she realized I didn't care what she assumed she knew – and it flashed encouragingly blue at me, even though there wasn't enough direct light in the bar to catch on its facets.

I did enjoy my burger, and my remarkable beer, and the wedge-cut French fries, almost-too-hot and perfectly salted, dipped in the puddle of cool ketchup I'd shot onto my plate. I caught gazes from all around the room, from both genders, returning them all with a friendly quirk of my lips.

Is this what life could have been like for me if Dad had skipped the whole chasing-monsters obsession? Or would the angels have pulled us in anyway? Normal life had never seemed so attractive, and for once, there was nothing to keep me from enjoying it to its fullest.

Then a vampire sat down at the table across from me.

 _Are you fucking kidding me_ , was one of the thoughts that floated across my slightly inebriated brain in the seconds that followed, along with _damn, I'm glad I remembered my machete_ and _hey, he's kind of hot._

He had olive skin, thick, shiny black hair, an aristocratic nose, and dark, dark eyes. It was also clear he had no idea who I was, or what I had done to his kind in the past. I had thought, with the Alpha Vamp dead and gone, that the Age of the Bloodsucker was over in America, but I guess the British Men of Letters hadn't counted on immigrants.

Wasn't that just like the British? America was a country built on immigrants, after all, with more coming in every day. Stood to reason some of them might not be entirely human.

"Hi," I said. How did one start a conversation with a vampire, especially one who didn't know that you knew he was a vampire? Not to mention, one you didn't feel too inclined to let in on that fact? We hadn't heard of any unusual deaths in the town, and Cas wouldn't have picked this place if it was at all suspicious, so any vampires in residence had to have been on their best behavior for almost a year, at least.

"Hi," he responded, and smiled. His teeth were reassuringly normal, though I knew there were needle-like fangs tucked away in his jaws, ready to spring forth at the slightest hint of blood. The first drips of adrenaline began to seep into my system, mixing pleasantly with my beer buzz.

Suddenly, Angela was back. "Everything okay here?" she asked, her tone implying the territorial claim that she'd staked. The handsome vamp's nostrils flared, probably scenting the effect I'd had on her earlier, and he smiled at her as well.

"Everything's delicious, Angela, thank you," I told her, making sure that she saw I had no problem with anything that was happening at this point in time. Her eyes grew several sizes, shooting between me and my new friend, who were both giving her all the appropriate social cues of attraction.

"I'll…um…I'll check back with you in a bit," she said, and retreated, peeking back over her shoulder at us as she went, eyes wide and curious.

"I'm Javier," he said, his accent making his name sound like a panted breath. Little Dean paid even more attention than he had been previously.

"Dean. Are you here by yourself?" I asked.

He gave a liquid shrug. "I'd been traveling with some friends, but they made some choices I didn't agree with, so we parted ways."

That sounded like a pack of vegan vamps had gone back to the hard stuff, and my new friend had decided not to join them. I hoped I'd find a way to surreptitiously ask him where his pack had headed without outing myself.

On the other hand, why kid myself? It might just as easily be the other way around. Javier could be the one who'd decided to go back to draining the vein, and he was in this bar trolling for a poor sap who'd be willing to put themselves in a vulnerable position for him later.

 _I volunteer as tribute,_ I thought, grinning. "Their loss is my gain, it seems," I said. "What are you drinkin'?"

He swirled something red around in his thick-stemmed wineglass, coating its sides.

"They have a surprisingly good wine selection up here, for hipster _gringos_. This is an excellent claret. I may have another, and I've had one already."

"I also like to live dangerously, I was thinking of having another as well. Next round's on me?"

He tilted his glass, clinking it delicately against my heavier one. "I'll accept a favor from a handsome stranger."

"Can I ask you about that?" I said, leaning in and lowering my voice, so that he had to lean in as well. "I'm getting a good vibe from everyone here tonight, including our lovely waitress. I've been a relatively good-lookin' dude all my life, but I've never gotten this sort of attention before. Am I wearing a _'Tell Me I'm Pretty'_ sign on my back or somethin'?"

Javier chuckled. "You honestly don't get it?"

"I honestly don't. Normally, I'd have to work a lot harder to pick someone up, and at least half of the people I asked would have turned me down first."

"Turn _you_ down? When you've got careless sex hair, a ring that screams _I love my mate,_ and an attitude that says _I'm down for anything, no guilt involved_?"

My eyebrows went up. "How does all that add up to 'take me, take me'?"

He leaned his head on a hand. "Look, Dean, this might seem like a stretch, but I've gotten pretty good at analyzing people. I'm going to say, you're in a committed relationship, but your lover is far away. Fortunately for you, they understand that a man has needs, and they are completely fine with whatever you're doing here tonight. I've never seen a man so at ease with himself. It's incredibly attractive."

I blinked at him. "That's … very accurate, actually."

He smiled a dangerous smile. "I've got powers you wouldn't believe, _caro_."

"Bet you still can't guess where my lover happens to be."

He let that one pass. "As you say, their loss is my gain."

There was a fuzzy interior monologue going on in my brain – _Dean, you're supposed to kill the monsters, not fuck them._ But Sam had banged that werewolf chick, hadn't he? _That doesn't make it okay!_

I told the buzzkill voice, the one that sounded like my dad, to shut the fuck up and let me have this. I'd text Sam in a bit to let him know what I was up to, just in case, but for now I wanted to enjoy the novel experience of flirting with a dude.

Being aware that I was in love with Cas was freeing, I'd realized. It allowed me to see past gender as a human construct, and to appreciate purely aesthetic attractiveness of both body and soul.

"I brought you guys some refills," said our angel of a barmaid, appearing from nowhere and delicately placing a fresh dark beer and a topped-up wineglass on the table between us and scooping up my empty burger basket.

I felt full of love for all of my fellow man, fanged or otherwise. "You're amazing," I told her.

She switched her gaze back and forth between me and my companion, who was also gazing at her in open admiration. "I…um…I get off at 9," she said, a little shyly.

I, for one, found that adorable. "And again, shortly after, if we've got anything to say about it."

Javier nodded in agreement. "We'll keep each other company until you can join us, _guapa_."

She flushed red, as only a redhead could, but bravely mustered a question. "You, you're the author from the cabin out by the lake, right?"

"That's me. Name's Dean. Got stuck, needed a change of pace. Apparently, I found one. I'd come to town more often, if I knew all of this would be waiting for me when I showed up." I let a lazy gesture encompass the table and the two people. Well, mostly people.

"I'm Javier," he told her. "Has anyone told you how exquisite you are? Like a goddess of beauty."

Her mouth fell open a little, but her confidence rushed back all at once, and she straightened her shoulders and stood tall. "They have, a time or two. Do either of you know how to worship properly?"

"You'll have to find out later," I told her, grinning. "In the meantime, I'll arrange for the sacrifices."

She beamed at us, then swished away to wait on another table.

I wiggled my eyebrows at my vamp friend. Even I could tell a redhead would be incredibly tempting to him, with her pale skin showcasing the delicate blue veins that branched like deltas just beneath the surface of the exposed slopes of her breasts.

In fact, Javier looked conflicted, and suddenly unwilling to show his teeth. My situation was perilous, but I felt giddy, rather than defensive. I slid my empty to the edge of the table, picked up the full glass she had brought, and held it up to the vampire sitting across from me.

"I like where this evening is going, my friend," I told him. "I've never been one to say 'life is good,' but all of a sudden I'm reconsidering."

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then raised his fresh glass to clink against mine again.

"I feel exactly the same way."

I felt a pang of conscience, in case I was leading that beautiful girl into a deadly trap. I needed to know which of the scenarios I'd come up with earlier was the real one, and so I'd have to give up my carefully hoarded anonymity.

"So, Javier, about these friends of yours, and your disagreement…"

He tensed up and went perfectly still. I'd never gotten a chance to examine a vampire on alert before; I'd always just gone for the throat with my huge serrated knife. He really was as still as death, not even breathing.

I put both of my hands face up on the table, trying to indicate that I wasn't a threat, wasn't about to go for a weapon. "Was it them who wanted to go back to human blood, or you?"

His swarthy face blanched as much as it could and his eyes opened as wide as I've ever seen, whites reflecting the dim light of the bar like mirrors. The mood was killed instantly, to my regret.

"Easy, easy," I soothed. "I don't care if you're a vampire. I know you haven't been feeding around here, I'm not here to judge you or punish you. Chuck knows I'd come off far worse if someone ever tried to judge _me_."

"You…you said…Dean. As in, _Winchester?"_

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

" _Hell_ no. You're _him_. The boogeyman story all monsters tell to their young."

His voice was quiet, thready with panic.

I sighed, letting my shoulders slump. "I'm just a man. I'm in no position to judge anyone's past actions. Kill someone in front of me? Yeah, I'd have to do somethin' about that. But meeting a person in a bar, in an area where there's been no suspicious deaths in ages? You're just a person tryin' to play out the hand he was dealt."

His frame relaxed just the slightest. "So you're not here to kill me?"

"Man, I just stopped in for a burger and a beer. I'm not chasin' trouble, if trouble doesn't trouble me."

He eyed me for a minute, then a tentative smile crept back onto his face. "In all the stories we tell each other, they never mention how gorgeous you are."

"Oh? I'm insulted. That's one of my best qualities. You'll have to add it in when you tell this one in the future."

He laughed, low and throaty with relief at the thought of having a _future_ after realizing just whom he'd met. Did vampires still produce adrenaline? I'd have to ask Sam.

"What gave me away?" he asked.

"I knew the second you sat down, man. No human is that graceful, that … would you be insulted if I said _ethereal_?"

He shrugged his liquid shrug again. "Can't argue there."

"Anyway, I didn't mean to kill the mood, but you understand I had to make sure the girl won't get hurt. Not without her consent, anyway."

He nodded, thought a moment, and then decided to trust whatever was happening here. "I was the breakaway," he said, sipping his wine. "We were a good nest, a safe nest. We only drank from livestock, like the _chupacabras_ of myth. Then we felt a strange power building in the north. Last May, that power suddenly shone like the sun, and then vanished entirely.

"My nestmates decided it was the end times. Something terrible had entered this world, and we were all going to die, yes? Might as well taste the human livestock while we had the chance. We could be sent to _Purgatorio_ tomorrow.

"I tried to reason with them. We've seen bad things before, I said. What made this any different? They told me to grow some _cojones_ and meet them in the afterworld, if I was man enough to get there. I left that night, and I walked north. It seemed my only option."

He was staring at his hand as one finger traced patterns in the condensation on the table from my glass.

"They went bad," he said, "but they were still my nest. I miss, if not them _exactly_ , then the idea of them. That's why I really came in tonight. I was tired of the empty silence of what I had lost."

I placed my hand over his, gentle as an answer to a prayer. "Me, too."

"But…" His eyes fell to my ring. "You have someone…"

"They're not here right now. It's a situation I intend to fix as soon as I'm able, but for now, they're as gone as it's possible for anything to be. It hurts worse than any pain I've ever felt, and I've been to Hell and back. Yeah, that one is true, unfortunately."

After a moment, he twisted his hand under mine, letting his dampened fingers play along the underside of my wrist. "You sound like you could use a night of mind-blowing, consequence-free sex."

His dark eyes glanced coyly up at me from under a fall of black hair.

"I'd say that's just what the doctor ordered."

* * *

I chauffeured a dozing Angela back to her car in the parking lot a few hours later. We'd retired to Javier's hotel room the minute her shift had ended, and had not given her any cause to regret it.

"Wake up, honey," I said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The smell of her core was still strong in my nostrils, soaked up by my five o'clock shadow. I throbbed and ached in all the right places, thoroughly spent.

"Hmmm?" she said, cracking open her eyes. Her voice was rough from use. Between Javier and me, we'd made her sing like a Stradivarius, and she'd given back as good as she'd gotten. I'd felt more than a little worshipped, myself.

"You okay to get home from here? Or do you need me to take you the rest of the way?"

She snorted a slightly delirious laugh. "People would talk, if my car stayed in the lot all night. I've got this, don't worry."

"I'm old-fashioned. I'd follow you home to make sure you got there okay, if it wouldn't seem stalkerish and creepy."

"How about I just text you?" She held out a hand for my phone.

"That'd do it." I pulled it out of a jacket pocket and passed it across the console. In that moment I missed Baby fiercely; she would have loved to be dropping off a hot chick with me, all sex appeal and shiny fenders and throaty purring engine.

A buzzing sound from her purse told me she'd texted herself from my phone, and she handed it back to me.

"Thank you, Dean. I had an amazing time." She ghosted a kiss onto my cheek and was gone into the chilly night, slamming the door behind her.

"Thank _you._ " I told the back of her head as she sank into her Camry, mussed hair and disheveled clothing and all. I checked my phone. One blank text sent to an unknown number, one received text from a contact I'd named simply _That Guy_.

" _See you around, Winchester. I'll tell your story."_

I drove back up to the cabin. My phone pinged on the way.

" _Home safe. Let's do it again some time."_

I parked my car beside Claire's in the driveway, walked around the house, stripped down to my boxers, and walked straight into the icy lake. A galaxy of stars kept me company as I floated.

 _Thanks, Cas. I'll see you soon._

* * *

" _Fólkvangr is a lock."_

The text from Sam one morning a few weeks later shattered our comfortable routine at the cabin.

" _I'll pack up the house and the kids,"_ I texted back. _"Meet you in South Dakota?"_

* * *

I'd acquired an extended cab pickup truck from the same car lot where I'd gotten my nothing of a sedan, fixing it up and reinforcing the bed for just this eventuality. Claire offered to drag Cas out to it by herself, but it was obvious that that would be physically impossible.

"Don't worry, I've got this. I think." Jack closed his eyes and breathed in and out a few times. The fabric of the Universe rippled softly, rearranging itself according to his will. The walls lit up a little, but dimmed back down slowly instead of exploding. The wards held, it seemed. This would still be a safe place, if we lived to come back to it.

* * *

Jody was standing on the front porch of her weekend cabin when we pulled up, a welcoming smile wreathing her face.

"Hello, Dean! It's so good to see you again! Hi, sweetie, look at you! You look amazing, you've gotten so strong! And this…this must be Jack."

She put her hands on his shoulders, held him out to get a good long look, then pulled him in for a tight hug. It must have been a fierce one, too, going by the way his eyes went wide, and the beseeching way he was gazing at me over her shoulder. She wasn't a big woman, but there was no question that she was as feisty as they came.

"Come in, come in, I've got dinner in the oven, and I'm expecting Sam in an hour or so. Make yourselves at home."

"How's Alex doing?" I asked as we entered her cabin's cozy confines. I'd thought of our rustic place by the lake as a cabin, but with its three bedrooms and multiple floors, it was overqualified for the word. Jody's place was legit.

"Great! She loves college, she's making friends, she has a boyfriend she's sure I won't approve of, so she hasn't actually told me about him. I had him investigated anyway, but he seems perfectly normal."

I glanced over at Claire. This would normally be where she rolled her eyes and told Jody to take a chill pill, but instead she just nodded a little in agreement. I smiled to myself. Maybe I wouldn't have made such a terrible parent, after all. I could raise paranoid weirdos with the best of them, it seemed.

Speaking of parenting, Jody was fluttering around Jack. We'd put our bags in the spare room, intending to sort out who was sleeping where once Sam got there, and Jody had seated Jack on the couch and was engaging him in conversation a touch too eager to be casual.

I was reminded that Jody had had a son, long ago. Jack didn't look his age – it'd be a medical miracle for a one-year-old to be a few inches over 6 feet tall – but the age he _did_ look was probably how old her son would have been.

Claire exchanged a knowing look with me, and we left them to it, heading out the back door to do some yoga in the yard to work out the stiffness of the long drive until Sam showed up. We'd been driving for almost a full day, with Jack tentatively taking the wheel when Claire and I wiped out.

I'd let him take a few spins up and down the deserted highway near the cabin over the past few weeks, and he started to build up the muscle memory to accompany the hours and hours on end of driving memories he'd gotten from Sam and myself. He did just fine.

"You think he'll be okay away from the lake house?" Claire asked. She wasn't looking at me, focusing straight ahead into the woods to hold her Lord of the Dance pose.

"The amulet will keep him safe until Sam gets the wards drawn here. Are you worried? You've taken him to town a hundred times, you've never been worried before."

She let her foot down behind her, straightened up, but still wouldn't look at me. She chewed her bottom lip.

"What's really botherin' you, kid?"

"I think I love him, Dean. And I know he's dangerous, and you're all going somewhere dangerous together, so there's no point in even thinking about this until you all get back. But I don't know what to do with this feeling."

She turned to me, blue eyes huge and watery in her face.

"How do you live with this? You and Castiel, you have this all sorted out. I saw you when you got back from your night out, you were happy and relaxed, you didn't look like a man who'd cheated on someone. But if Jack never wants … how do you know what's okay to do?"

"You'd have to talk to Jack about that. That isn't somethin' that someone else can decide for you. And, what the hell? Are you guys in a relationship now? When did that happen?"

She turned red and hid her face again in a forward bend. She mumbled something against her knees that sounded like _it hasn't_.

"Oh, _hell_ no. I'm not havin' the same conversation with _both_ of you."

She straightened up so quickly, I saw her stumble a little from a rush of blood to the head. "What do you mean, same-"

"Are both of you blind?" I cut her off. "You care about each other, so just sit down and talk it out. _Before_ we go and do the dangerous thing. Just… just make sure you don't push him into something he's not comfortable with. I'd hate to have to come after you with a shotgun for breaking my kid's heart."

She refused to be diverted. "The same conversation, you said? So he's asked you about how to make a relationship with an ace work, too?"

My face felt hot, and a bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck and soaked my collar that had nothing to do with the tree pose I was holding. "Yes," I said, a bit begrudgingly.

She lit up like a Chuck-damned Christmas tree.

* * *

"So, what's the plan?"

The wards had been traced, the sun had gone down, Jody's delicious dinner was eaten, and the kids were doing the dishes (Jody had been instantly suspicious when Claire had volunteered them both for the job, but she caught the pleased look on my face and let it go), so now we were free to sit around her table with glasses of wine and stare at Sam until he gave up everything he knew.

He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, where running water and murmuring voices seemed to indicate we wouldn't be overheard, and then laid his hands flat on the table.

"First thing, we have to make the appropriate sacrifices to Freyja. We can't just rip a hole into her kingdom and stroll in, not with everything I've learned about her. I've made a few, and they've been accepted, which is what pushed me to believe she was the one in the first place, but goodwill offerings and 'may I please visit your realm of the dead and leave with my body and soul in one piece' offerings are on entirely different levels."

"What kind of offerings are we talking, here?" I asked. "Blood sacrifices?"

"She's been known to accept those when it comes to asking for magical assistance, as long as you actually use the animal you have _humanely_ killed. She likes mead, too, for whatever you happen to be asking of her, and if you don't have any mead, she'll just accept some of whatever you happen to be drinking.

"If you're seeking a loved one, she seems to like honey, fresh fruit, chocolate, and love poetry. Don't start with the PMS jokes, Dean."

I held up my hands in surrender. That was the last thing on my mind, to be honest. This was too important for jokes.

"How'd you determine that she'd accepted your offerings?" Jody asked.

Sam flushed a little. "She… um. I offered up some of the things that you should give her in order to ask for acceptance of self, and she came to me in a dream. Told me she approved of me. When I woke up, the items were gone from the altar I'd set up in the roof of the bunker. I texted you immediately, and I've been putting together all the supplies and research we'll need ever since."

"Dude." I stared at him, impressed as hell. It was a mark of how friggin' weird our lives were, that I didn't ask Sam if he'd been on something at the time. If my brother said he'd been visited by a goddess, then he'd definitely been visited by a goddess.

He shrugged it off. "I tried to tell her about what we were planning, to ask her permission, but I wasn't actually an active participant in the dream. Just her talking to me. And she touched my face. And petted my hair."

"You do have some pretty hair, little brother," I told him. "Even goddesses think so."

"Shut up."

"Alright, children, settle down. So, now that you know where you're going, what will you do when you get there? _If_ you get there, and Jack doesn't divert you to an extremely convincing alternate universe?"

"With her permission, we just walk through the field where her army waits until we find Cas and Gabriel, and then we ask them if they'd like to return with us. After that, we find the lady and ask her if that's okay. Hopefully, the ' _true love'_ angle will help us out here, since she's reportedly a huge sucker for it."

"How does that help Gabriel?" Jody asked. She, too, took it for granted that Cas was my soul mate. I had to have been the last person on the entire Chuck-forsaken planet to have noticed.

"The other pagan gods called him Loki, there at the hotel on the last day we knew him, remember, Dean?" Sam said. "I think when he died and found himself in Fólkvangr, it was probably just business as usual for him. Most likely, if he found a reason to leave, he'd just have to ask Freyja's permission. In the mythology, Loki asks Freyja for favors all the time, and she usually says yes, even if she doesn't seem to like him very much."

"What are the risks?" Jody asked.

"The biggest one is that she doesn't let us leave, locks us up for trespassing or something. It's a realm of the dead, after all. Can't just have the living traipsing through whenever they want. Especially if our way in was ripped there with the power of a descendant of Chuck. They're business partners, but there's no way to tell if she actually liked him or not."

"Not to mention, all the angels we were personally involved in sending there in the first place."

Sam went silent for a minute. I thought of all the angels we'd known, both friend and foe.

"Hey, do you think Metatron will be there? I have mixed feelings about him."

"I don't," said Sam, his jaw firming. "Dude, he _literally_ killed you."

"Yeah, but then he sacrificed himself so that we could rescue Cas from Amara. Doesn't that even the score a little?"

"No. He sacrificed himself for _Lucifer,_ who was _wearing_ Cas at the time. Motives and loyalties were unclear."

Jody was watching us, wide-eyed. So we didn't always tell her everything about what we did. It was for her own peace of mind. She'd worry herself to death otherwise, no matter how quiet the last year had been. We still hadn't told her about the Cosmic Consequences headed our way eventually.

"So. We get her permission to enter, we pass through a rip in the Universe made by the kid I taught to swim, then we cross a huge field of beings we've either killed personally or who died in a war we helped start, to search for two in particular. Then, if they're willing, we take them to the great hall and ask the mistress of the realm if we may, pretty please, with honey, mead, and fresh strawberries on top, all go home together. Sound about right?"

Sam nodded. "Yep. That's it, in a nutshell."

Anticipation shivered through my veins. We'd been stagnating for so long, it felt amazing to finally have something to do. "When do we start?"

* * *

We spent the next day gathering supplies and finalizing all the prep we could do on our end. I took Jack scouting through the woods until we found a nice clearing, then we painted the wards Sam had taught everyone onto the surrounding trunks until Jack could remove his amulet safely within the space they sheltered.

Sam took Claire into town with him for fresh flowers.

We built the altar when the sun went down. Sam brought a duffle bag, and we all watched him as he arranged various objects on the stones he'd set up.

First, though, he scratched a rune in it. "It's called _fehu_ ," he said, but it just looked like an italicized F to me, with the top part sticking out more than usual.

"We're invoking the love goddess aspects, so that's gold and rose," he said, laying out some lengths of ribbons, "and the warrior goddess as well," as he added white and red rose petals.

He laid out some amber-colored stones in the shapes of hearts, and some that vaguely suggested felines, then began to arrange some additional flowers as well. "Daisies, primroses, lily of the valley," he said. "I don't even trust half of the websites that listed what she liked, but the main gist was that as long as it's fresh and looks aesthetically pleasing, she'll be happy with it."

He brought out a small, admittedly attractive bowl, and poured some expensive-looking honey into it. Last of all, he pulled out a tiny bottle of Goldschlager, another of mead, a basket of exquisite strawberries, a chased silver goblet, and a bottle of a wine so expensive that its matte black label had only a few silver words on it, as if it didn't need to catch anyone's attention on the shelf in the grocery store. This was a wine that, if you weren't already looking for it, it wasn't for you.

"Dean, your ring, please?"

I felt a momentary qualm, but it was just jewelry, after all. If it helped me get back the real thing, it was a sacrifice I was happy to make. I slipped it off and handed it over, and he laid it on the altar as well.

Sam held onto the wine and stood back. "Jody, Claire, could you arrange everything so that it looks nice? Freyja loves women who know their own worth, so your touch would help a lot."

The two women gave him pleased smiles, and then went to their knees in front of the altar, holding a murmured conversation about which objects looked better beside what. They were careful not to handle the flowers or petals too much, since the oil from their skin would cause them to brown.

While they worked, Sam pulled the cork out of the bottle he was holding, letting it breathe. When they had finished, Sam took a deep breath.

"Everyone ready?" We nodded. "Claire, please light the candle I gave you earlier."

Claire pulled a lighter and a large amber beeswax taper out of the kangaroo pouch of her sweatshirt. She flicked the wheel on the lighter until the flame caught, then lit the taper and held it upright in front of her chest.

" _Freyja_ ," Sam called. "Beautiful and powerful One. We beseech thee, please hear us. We wish to visit your realm of fallen soldiers, to seek out those that we have lost, those that were taken when we, left behind, still needed them with the depths of our souls. Please offer a path, or take no offense that we find our own."

He glanced at me. I gave him a half-shrug. Whatever he needed to say to make this work, I was willing to roll with it, embarrassment about feelings-talk be damned.

"The soul of one of the living is bound to one taken to your realm too soon. Neither can be complete without the presence of the other. Please allow this human and his companions to enter your realm and search for his other half among your soldiers. If it please you at that time, please allow us to return with him safely to our own realm of Midgard. Freyja, we entreat your aid in this matter."

Sam passed me the wine, indicating that I should take a sip. I did so, letting its full-bodied flavor enchant my senses, before passing it to Jack, standing to my right. He took his own swallow, and then helped Claire juggle the candle while she took her own and handed the bottle to Jody.

Jody drank from it, staring straight at the altar she'd arranged, and seemed to be praying fiercely in silence, in her own mind, before handing it back to Sam. Sam filled the goblet where the girls had set it on the altar, and then took his own swallow, before placing the half-full bottle in front of the altar as well.

He elbowed me. I jerked as if stung, then remembered the task I'd been assigned.

I stepped forward and pulled out the lyrics I'd printed off from a song called "Blue Eyes." I sang the song once through, my voice rough but strong, on the verge of breaking but never quite doing so. When the last echoes died out in the candle-lit clearing of silent trees, I placed the sheet of lyrics on the altar and stepped back.

For a long minute, nothing happened. I was on the verge of suggesting we pack it in – after all, she'd come to Sam in a dream, maybe that's how she operated – when Jack said, "Does anyone else feel that?"

We all glanced at each other, exchanging shrugs and head-shakes. "I'm goin' with no, kid. What does it feel like?"

He squinted, focusing on something beyond what our human senses could comprehend. "Like…um. It feels like an invitation."

His arm lifted, palm facing forward, and I wasn't sure if he'd controlled the action himself or just let it happen. A golden glow started in his eyes, bled across his skin, and then coalesced in his palm. His shoulders rippled as he pushed at an invisible barrier.

I saw Claire reach a hand toward him, but Jodie held her back.

All at once, Jack let out a sigh, and the light flowed away from him to dance over the altar, spinning a few times, and then snapping into a straight line, like the soundtrack scene in _Fantasia_. Like the hole in the world that had swallowed our mother. But this one seemed to be beaming straight up from my ring, giving the yellow light a greenish cast.

"I'm going," said Claire into our stunned silence. "Can't deny me, the lady of the house wouldn't like it." Her voice was steady and serious, but her eyes betrayed her victorious glee.

I gaped at her, ready to protest – or beg – but Sam was already shaking his head at me. "She's right. If this is what she wants, denying her would be a really bad start to the mission."

Claire was turning to Jody. "What do you say? Field trip to the Underworld to watch my back?"

Jody was frowning. "I know all about Winchester field trips," she said. "They sometimes come back a person or two short."

Well, if that didn't punch me right in the hollow place in my gut. Ellen and Jo stepped clear of my list of dead, waved hello. Sam had gone very still.

"No offense," Jody said to both of us. "I know you guys do your best. Sometimes, shit just happens. Can you promise it won't happen to me? To Claire? You don't even know what's on the other side of that portal, or where, exactly, it goes. If we die there, do we still go to Heaven? Or is it too far away?"

Jack's quiet voice shocked us all. "Jody, we don't have answers to those questions. You know that. All we know is that we have to try. We'd never ask anyone along if they weren't willing to try with us."

I'd been about to say much the same thing, but it sounded much better coming from him.

Claire looked at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You're okay with me going with you?"

"I'd rather you stay somewhere safe, but if you did, you wouldn't be you," he told her with a huge grin.

"Listen to you," sighed Jody. "I knew I shouldn't have left you in Dean's clutches this long."

We stared at the glowing fissure a beat more. "If it closes up, can you get us home again?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "There's a … a _thin spot_ here, now. There's one at the cabin where I was born, as well. Like, when you hold up a piece of cloth to the light and you can sort of see where the wear spots are? It'd take very little energy to punch through it again, and I can feel exactly where it is."

"And you won't need an anchor in this universe? Something to focus on, to punch your way back?"

He shook his head. "This universe is my home. I know what flavor it is."

"Then let's friggin' do this," Jody said. She stepped over the altar and disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

We emerged, blinking, under the bluest Chuck-damned sky I had seen in my entire life, and I'd driven across the entirety of the Great Plains states. Multiple times.

Once we'd all checked on each other, to make sure that no one had been left behind, we took stock of our surroundings. We were at the very bottom of a field so large, it curved over the horizon in three directions. To our backs, the portal danced and snapped among gray, gnarled, lichen-covered tree trunks that made the great sequoias look like saplings.

As we watched, the portal wavered, fizzled, and sealed itself up. We all looked at Jack, but he shook his head. That hadn't been his doing.

"Probably for the best," I said, shrugging away the unease I felt. It had taken a ritual, and a death, to close the last one, and while Crowley had never been a friend to us, he had been an occasional ally, and a pretty good companion for Demon-Dean to howl at the moon with. Oh, well. Realm of the dead, that sort of energy should be in ready supply.

"Yeah, I guess leaving an unguarded portal to Earth while we wander away wasn't the best idea, anyway," added Sam.

"Jack," said Claire. "This place will be full of angels. Do you need to put your amulet back on, to be safe?"

He shook his head. "I get the feeling she wouldn't welcome the deception of it. We'll just have to make do."

 _He's here_. The throbbing void at my core ached, tugging at me. "Alright, let's go."

We picked the direction straight way from the trees and set off through the shin-high grass under the tiny but fierce sun. The air was full of birdsong, and the grass rustled as small creatures went about their business. For a realm of the dead, it seemed pretty lively.

I hadn't realized how accustomed I'd become to the weight of the ring on my finger; I felt vaguely naked without it.

A brisk breeze tugged at our clothes as we walked, but I didn't feel cold. "Jack, anything on Angel Radio?"

"Absolutely nothing. Either it doesn't work the same way here, or I'm scaring them silent."

"Maybe we can work with that," I said, as an orderly camp appeared up ahead. It looked like what a military camp would look like, if soldiers had no need to eat, sleep, crap, or visit the camp ladies. No tents, no mess hall, no latrines, just a picket line of horses and twenty or so figures standing or sitting on hay bales, playing cards or dice, whittling, doing whatever sentient creatures did to pass the time.

That is, until they saw us approaching. Then, they flowed into orderly lines like water and stood at attention, males and females and androgynes of peak physical strength and beauty. It was easy to tell that they had not been human in some time. We halted in front of them, confused as to what authority they were respecting. When our silence stretched, their eyes began to shift uncomfortably. Eventually, one of them stepped forward and addressed Jody.

"What are your orders, my lady?"

"Oh!" She blinked a few times. "Um. At ease."

The rank of angels relaxed just a hair.

"You," said Jody to the one who'd addressed us. "What is your name?"

"Sariel, my lady."

"Sariel, my companions and I are new to this realm. Can you direct us to the Great Lady's hall? And may we borrow your horses?"

"Of course, my lady." Sariel's eyes kept darting toward Jack. "My lady, may I ask where you acquired this creature? In our other life, he would have been considered-"

"You may _not_ ," Jody snapped. "This creature is none of your concern, and has my full faith. He will harm none here, unless any here offer harm to my person."

Sariel bowed his head, chastened. "My lady must be powerful indeed, to have one such as this as a sworn protector."

Jack tried to look serious and strong, though he came off looking a bit constipated instead. I figured it was all the same to angels, anyway, and gave him an encouraging nod for the effort.

"Yes, yes. Horses, if you can?"

Sariel waved a few of his ranks toward the pickets, where they separated a horse for each of us and led them back by the reins. There were no saddles.

Trying to seem like this wasn't a big deal, like we rode bareback every day, we each accepted the reins as they were handed over. Claire looked thrilled to pieces, while Sam looked less than enthusiastic. The horses were large, even-tempered creatures, ranging from roan to dappled gray.

Sariel, swinging atop a large black stallion, said, "I will show you the way to the Hall, lady. Please follow me?"

Jack copied Sariel's easy swing upward and was soon seated comfortably atop his beast, but the rest of us stayed flat on the ground, unsure how to continue this charade without looking like complete asses.

Jody gave us all a flat look, and thought fast. "My companions and I are too long away from the fields, and have forgotten the ways of them. Can you assist us in mounting?"

Chuck bless the angels for their lack of critical thinking, because that was some thin-ass logic.

"Of course, lady."

Each of us was scooped up and deposited on our mounts, where we scrambled to get our legs situated and a death-grip on the reins. I, for one, had only been horseback riding once in my life, and it had been when an angel had sent me back in time to before there were cars. I loved Baby like my own child, and I sometimes suspected she could think for herself, but it was nothing like being on top of a warm, moving, mountain of flesh that could decide to kill me on a whim.

That reminded me, Zachariah was probably here somewhere, too. I hoped we'd run into him; I'd like to punch that smug bastard in the nose, if given the opportunity, and maybe give him a Nelson-style _haw haw_ while I was at it.

"Follow me, please," said Sariel, and he kicked his mount into motion. We all followed, with varying degrees of success. At least no one fell off.

* * *

I had one of those " _is this my life?"_ moments, riding a bay horse across the field of the Host under a sun that was only mythically related to my own, past hordes of angels, some of whom recognized us, judging by the way one jaw out of every hundred fell completely to the ground. The gathered host were extremely well-disciplined, so the gaping maws really stood out.

Jack rode like a centaur, achieving a oneness with his mount that I could never hope to aspire to. Jody rode like a cowboy, born to the saddle (or lack thereof), and I realized she'd probably been doing this since she was small. Claire rode like a teenaged girl, grinning so hard her face was in danger of splitting in half and staying on her horse's back through sheer force of will.

Sam and I were much more grim and pedestrian about it. It was faster than walking, I'd give them that, but give me my Baby and a nice smooth road any day.

We seemed to be heading toward a small wooden structure a little way off. Turns out, it was more than just a little way off, and not small after all, because we kept riding toward it, and it kept growing. I was just wondering just how big the damn thing really was, when I heard someone calling my name.

"Dean! Dean, is that you? Sam! Dean!"

I'd grown complacent on the horse as it moved forward in one direction and at one speed, so the thought of telling it to stop was a bit daunting, but I yanked on the reins like they do in the movies. Jack and Sam, riding behind me, parted like the Red Sea as my obedient horse came to an abrupt stop.

I scanned the orderly ranks until I spotted a flash of auburn hair, and an excited smile that was wise beyond its years. "Anna?"

I climbed off my horse, which seemed content to crop at the grass until Ragnarok, and ran to her, grabbing her up and spinning her around while she laughed like a mountain stream.

I felt the eyes of hundreds of disapproving angels on us, but no one said a damn thing. Jody was watching us with a small grin on her face, and she held a mysterious power here which none of them were willing to question.

Anna took charge of the situation immediately. "Sariel, thank you. I'll take them from here, and I'll see to it that your horses are returned to you, once the Lady knows what a service you have provided for her guests."

Sariel took the dismissal as it was intended, bowed at the waist while still mounted, bowed again to Jody, then wheeled around and galloped back the way we'd come.

Anna climbed onto my horse, then lifted me up behind her with superhuman strength. "So, do I rate an introduction?"

"Guys, this is Anna," I told the stunned group. "We met her when she was a human on the run from the psych ward, helped her get her grace back, and then sold her out. Then she killed an angel for us, was mostly likely tortured in Heaven for a bit, then went back in time to kill Sam as a kid, but he got resurrected so everything's okay, I guess? That about sum it up?"

She gave me a grin over her shoulder. "What a life you lead, Winchester. Did you want to put in the bit where we had sex in the back seat of your car the day before the end of the world, or did you leave that out on purpose?"

Since everyone was too busy gaping at us to respond, I smiled back at her. "One of the high points of my life, that was. I've had several apocalypses since then, but have banged no more angels. Anyway, you remember Sam, of course?"

Sam tilted his head at her in acknowledgement, and she gave him a seated bow. "I deeply apologize, Sam Winchester. I had lost my faith in my father – an affliction which grows more common every day – but I also lost faith in you, which is a mistake I should never have made."

He shook his head. "No harm done, after all. Apocalypse averted."

"And this is Sheriff Jody Mills of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and Claire Novak, women of worth who have decided we aren't the lost causes we seem."

Jody and Claire gave her slightly manic grins and small waves, but Anna caught on to the important part of that sentence and her face went suddenly blank. "Novak? As in, James Novak?"

Claire nudged her horse closer. We'd drawn into a circle, to better shut the rest of the angels out of our conversation, but Claire looked about ready to jump off and grab at Anna. "My father. What of it? He's in Heaven, nowhere near here, wherever _here_ actually is."

"James Novak's soul resides in Heaven, yes, but his _semblance_ -"

She broke off and twisted to look at me, her face lit up like a joyous forest fire. "You're here for Castiel!"

I nodded as emphatically as I knew how, and she looked on the verge of singing a Hallelujah. "This is the best news I've heard in millennia! Oh, I can't wait, he's-"

She broke off, bit her lip.

"What, Anna? He's what?"

"Never mind, you'll see. I'll take you there myself. First, though, who is this, please?"

She reached a hand out to Jack, even though he was too far away to be touched, and sort of stroked his aura, if I had to describe what it looked like from the outside. He looked startled but unhurt.

"You," she murmured. "You feel like _he_ did. Like Lucifer."

"My father? Did you know him?"

"Your father! Well, well. We _all_ knew him, everyone on these plains. He was our older brother, once. I'm one of the few who mimicked his actions, though it was for my own reasons, so I feel as if I knew him better, somehow, though I doubt he knew me at all. He shone like the sun."

Her voice had gone all dreamy, and even though impatience itched under my skin like an anthill, I couldn't take this from Jack. No one else, except maybe Chuck himself, was ever going to say anything nice about Lucifer. Ever.

"Is it safe for Jack here?" Claire asked, bringing Anna back from whatever eons-old memory she was reliving. "Do any of these guys hold grudges that they'd take out on him, just for existing?"

"There's none of that allowed here," Anna replied, shaking her head. "Our Lady demands an orderly Host. No dissension in the ranks. Of course, we have the remainder of eternity to work out our differences. Uriel and I will never be the comrades we were again, not since I stabbed him in the throat and all, but we're dead now, so what's the point of staying mad?

"He's not in my garrison, for exactly that reason, but we've drilled together in the past. It's very difficult to stay mad when faced with the prospect of infinity together. I'm not sure how your father manages it. Jack, she said?"

Jack shrugged. He probably did know, with Lucifer's grace-memories packed in his head, but it couldn't be a pleasant prospect to face.

"And would any of these evolved, non-grudge-bearing angels be as forgiving of a few humans as well?" asked Sam. "I can think of several that we sent here personally who might not be as happy to see us as you are."

She quirked her lips at him. "Don't worry about _them_. Your average angel is much happier when given orders and told to stay put. Killing them, taking them away from a reality where they had to think for themselves, to _question,_ was the nicest thing you could have done for them. Here, it's just like the old days for them, before humans were even a spark in our Father's brain."

Nudged the horse into motion again, she led us off at a slow walk. "Even better, really," she continued over her shoulder. "Every angel believed that when they died, their grace would dissipate into the ether and become nothing. To know that our Father had a plan for us all along, and to get right back with his program, is a blessing and a gift for those who had found themselves faced with the ugly prospect of losing faith at last."

"And you? And any like you? Who think for themselves and _question_?" said Jack.

"Our lady gives us special status. Leadership roles. To be honest, I think the Host's attitude baffles her at times. She's so full of life and wit and curiosity! To see my brothers and sisters perfectly content to stand in one place forever kind of weirds her out. When she made the deal with Father, I don't even think she really believed him, but here we are, a slice of forever later, and she's got the largest and most powerful army there is, waiting on her front lawn and willing to wait there for another slice, until orders are given to do otherwise."

"So," said Sam, making a stab at being casual. "What about the archangels who've made it this far? Raphael? Gabriel?"

 _Real smooth, bro._

"Raphael took up a watch position over where the serpent Jörmungandr sleeps, so that he will be the first to know when our final battle arrives. He's barely moved since he got here. I've never seen him happier."

She paused, and Sam's face went all pained with the struggle not to hurry her along. It was very hard not to laugh at him, but I managed.

"Gabriel, though. You don't have to worry about that one. Having the time of his life- that is, you know what I mean. If I still thought that sort of thing mattered, I'd call it blasphemous, the way he fits in as this pantheon's Trickster."

Sam's shoulders eased. "Good. We thought that might be the case. I'm glad he's happy."

"Aw, Samsquatch, I didn't know you cared."

Sam just about fell off of his horse.

A man with golden eyes had appeared, lounging on Sam's horse's rear quarters, a small lollipop poking out of his mouth. I felt my mouth stretch into a grin, thrilled to see him despite the fact that every new distraction was keeping me from my goal that much longer.

"Gabe! Hey!"

"Dean-o! How's it hanging?"

"Left of center, at the moment. Never riding a horse again, if I can help it."

"I don't blame you for a second. I miss Earth's technology almost as much as I miss their many and varied methods of producing things that rot human teeth. What's new, guys? What brings you all to my neck of the woods? And _heeeeey_ , why does this one feel like You-Know-Who?"

Anna was smiling, I was smiling, Sam was positively _beaming_ , but Jack and the girls still looked confused, and were starting to look concerned as well. Jack, especially – his father's memory of murdering the man before us probably stood out a bit.

Gabriel, as usual, didn't need any help carrying the conversation. "Oh, All-Father, do you mean to tell me that the Morning Star got _biz-ay_? He must have had that stick up his ass surgically removed first, I bet it would have gotten in the way otherwise."

"Guys, this is the Archangel Gabriel," Sam told the other members of our questing party. "In case that wasn't immediately obvious."

He turned back to the slight man now sitting cross-legged across his horse's withers, easily keeping his seat despite their no-doubt jouncing movements. "And _we_ ," he gestured at the rest of us, "came by to see if you'd care to be rescued."

Gabriel's curiously mobile face went still. "Is that… is that a thing you can do?"

"We're here to try, at least. If that's what you want. If you're content here, then no harm done and we'll see you at Ragnarok, which we will no doubt kick off at some point because hey, we're Winchesters and that's more or less what we do."

Gabriel threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Oh holy crap, I had forgotten what _fun_ you Winchesters were! But you wouldn't have gotten an invitation to enter the realm unless _she-_ "

He broke off, made an elaborate show of thinking hard for a minute, then pointed at me. "Are you here to make an honest man of my little brother Cassie at last? For real this time, not just that lame, lost-grace, poor-me crap you kept putting him through?"

"Bet your ass," I told him. "Just point me in the right direction, and I'll spend whatever small slice of eternity we have left making it up to him. If that's what he wants, of course. I know you angels aren't big on choices here, but we're Team Free Will after all. If he's content, then I'm just here to say goodbye."

Gabriel frowned, and did the aura-stroking thing at me. "By Great Odin's crow-ridden Beard, Dean, you're like half a person in there!"

I shrugged. I was aware. It was old news. "You curse in Norse pantheon terms now?"

Gabriel grinned gleefully. "Hanging with the old crowd has been tons of fun. It's like I never left. So, I can tell that this is James Novak's daughter, nice to meet you and all, but _who_ is _this_ exquisite creature?"

Between one blink and the next, he was now perched in front of Jody, in a position to have been mightily inconvenienced by a saddle horn, had one been present.

Jody, to her credit, drew herself up and looked unfazed. I could have told her there was no point in resisting. Gabriel wore everyone down in the end, through sheer force of personality. "Sheriff Jody Mills, Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

"Ooooh, a _law_ woman! My favorite! Do you have any handcuffs?"

The rest of us stifled snickers as Jody's face flickered between outrage and amusement. "I'd say, not right now, but I get the feeling you'd take it as an invitation to come visit me later."

"And you'd be _correct!_ "

This was fascinating and all, but I'd had enough. "Alright, kids, can we all flirt later? My Chuck-damned soulmate has been dead for an entire year, and I'm kind of looking forward to seeing him again. Anna, you said something about leading us to him?"

There was a pause. "Chuck?" said Gabriel in a tiny voice, completely derailed from his previous fixation.

"Oh, yeah, man. You have missed a _lot_ since you've been dead."

* * *

We caught both of them up as we got closer to the great hall, which was actually starting to look stadium-sized at this point. We continued to shock a small number of individuals in the host we passed through, but no more tried to approach us.

"Hey, was that Balthazar?" Sam said, nodding at a tall blonde creature who was hurriedly turning his back on us and melting away into the ranks.

I looked after the retreating figure. "Probably. I wouldn't wanna talk to us either, if I was him."

We started veering to the right, heading around the enormous wooden structure's intricately carved walls, and I thought back on exactly how we had fucked Balthazar over. Or rather, Cas had.

"Anna, I know you said you all are big on the 'not holdin' grudges' thing, but Cas… he's done a lot of things that most of the rest of the angels were … not in favor of."

"Everyone hated his guts, you mean?" she said, giving me a look over her shoulder.

I shrugged uncomfortably. He'd done it for me, most of it, even when I hadn't been too much in favor of it myself.

"Yeah, that's still true. For most of them, those wounds are still fresh. He hasn't been forgiven yet. No garrison would have him."

"So, _where is he_?" I wanted to scream it, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to be patient.

"He lives in isolation, like a hermit, and runs small errands for our Lady. She feels terrible for him. She can sense what he's sacrificed to make the choices he's made. Given enough time, he _will_ integrate – like I said, hard to stay mad for eternity – but for now, he's alone. And, I suspect, half-mad for it."

I felt a curious blend of horror and relief at this news. It was awful for someone with his life experience to be forced to live alone, after a lifetime spent in lockstep with his brothers in arms, but that meant he wasn't content here, wasn't at peace, wouldn't want to stay.

 _Doesn't mean he'll want to go with_ you _, either_ , said the voice of my low self esteem. _Haven't you done enough?_

 _Shut it, you_ , I told the voice. I'd come all this way, I had to at least try. How much more could rejection hurt me, after a year with this never-healing wound gaping in my middle?

"I am proud of him, you know," she said. "When I died, he was just starting to question. He's come so far since then, farther than anyone else could. I know he can thank you for that."

"Let's not discount my influence as well," Gabriel sang, from his position pressed up against Sam's back, arms wrapped around his waist. "I've been teaching that boy to love humans since his wings grew in. Not my fault it took one human in particular for my lessons to sink in."

A sort of glade with a lake was coming into view as we rounded the great structure at last.

"We're going to have to go in and say hi to the Lady of the house. You guys know that, right?" Gabriel asked.

"That was always the plan," said Sam, who was doing his best impression of an uncomfortable statue, interfering with his already mediocre riding skills. "It'd be rude not to, after she was kind enough to invite us in."

"But she invited us for a reason, and going to see her first might imply that that reason isn't as important as we've made it out to be," I said. My hands rested lightly on Anna's sides, and our horses were going the same speed, so I knew damn well that Gabe had no need to be holding my brother quite so tightly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at me. "Sure, sure. It's respect for her intentions, not the call of your missing piece. Anyway, how come you guys didn't invoke _me?_ I let my own brother _kill_ me so that you all could live to fight another day, and I haven't earned _comrade_ status?"

Jack flinched. Claire reached over and squeezed his hand, but Gabriel ignored them both, waiting for an answer.

"Honestly, we just figured out this place existed for certain, like, two days ago in real-world time," said Sam over his shoulder. "Prior to that, we had no idea where angels went, if they went anywhere at all. But finding both of you was always part of the plan."

"The rest of the plan being, we all get a second shot at our big brother, with our nephew for backup, and a goatee-verse hellscape as set dressing?" When we caught him up on current events, he'd been miffed that he'd missed out on so much, but at least he'd stopped sulking.

"If that's what you want, yes. We're going to go anyway, and you're welcome to join us, but no one else _has_ to come."

"Bullshit," said Gabriel, suddenly serious. "That's the thing about you Winchesters and the world. Either we die trying to kill you, or we live long enough to die for you voluntarily."

"Hey, now," Jody chided. "I gave them that lecture before we walked through the portal on the way here. No need to put them through it again."

"Besides," added Claire. "They've both died, too. Plenty of times."

"Taco Tuesday doesn't count," Gabriel pouted. "Those weren't real."

"Felt real to me. Every single damn time," said Sam.

"I'm sorry," said Gabe, lowering his cheek to press into Sam's back and seeming to tighten his grip even further. "Needed to get my point across. Like Anna said, I lost faith in the Winchesters. Won't happen again."

I had a thought. "Gabe, do you know who's in charge of the Reaper franchise these days?"

He straightened. "What, since you've managed to kill the last several? Has to be some kind of record, that."

"Well, they're not too happy with us. They've promised us the Big Empty, instead of Heaven or Hell, and they've thrown in Cosmic Consequences, with capital letters, since Cas ganked the last one to offer us a deal. That one wasn't even our fault!"

"Not go to Heaven? The _Winchesters?_ I've never heard anything so ridiculous! Y'all _definitely_ get peace when you lay your weary heads to rest. Thus it is written. I'll put in a good word for you with the department head. I can be very convincing."

Sam slumped backward against him in relief. "Thank you, Gabe. That would be much appreciated."

A small wooden structure had appeared on the other side of the hall, at the shore of the lake. If Jody's house qualified as a 'cabin,' I would term this one a 'hut.' As we approached, we could see that it was well-maintained, but probably didn't consist of more than one room.

I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I'd been wandering without a compass for so long now, and my lodestone was in that hut. I could feel it, could feel him, like a string tied around the third rib down on my left side tugging me forward.

Everyone else could tell as well, just by looking at me, and the horses all slowed to a halt about thirty yards from the tiny building. Anna helped me dismount.

"Can I get a minute, before you all come tromping in?"

They all looked at each other, humans, angels, nephilim, and then looked back at me with the same air of vague disgust painting all their faces. "Gross, Dean, like we'd want to see _that_ ," said Claire, putting it into words for all of them.

"I think what she means is, you two should have your privacy," said Jack, putting it into _different_ words. "Give us a yell if you need us, we'll be right out here."

Everyone else nodded in agreement, sliding off their horses and massaging the smalls of their backs with small groaning noises. Gabriel made sure to personally assist both Sam and Jody off their mounts. He wasn't that much taller than her, but he made every inch count.

Jack helped Claire from hers, and let his hands linger longer than he would have dared when they were training together at the lake house. Good for them.

 _My turn._

I spun on my heel and strode toward the hut, my heart in my mouth. A voice I knew drifted out to me, as rough and gravelly as it was in my memories, apparently talking to someone else. The wood of the door felt splintery and rough under my knuckles as I knocked.

No acknowledgement. There wasn't even a hitch in the voice's flow. Then I picked my own name out of the stream of words, so I leaned on the wood slab with my shoulder, trying to hear better. It wasn't even latched, swinging open silently on hardened leather hinges, revealing the room inside.

 _Living alone, and half-mad for it_ , Anna had said. He sat on the floor in the middle of the room, facing the hut's only window, which overlooked the lake. I studied his profile as he rambled on in Enochian to himself. His hair was wild and tousled, longer than I had ever seen it, even when he'd been human.

Despite that, he was still mostly clean-shaven, a faint shadow peppering his jawline, unlike the hobo scraggle he'd managed as a homeless human when I'd kicked him out of the bunker to protect the traitor angel I'd invited into my brother.

My name came into the stream of foreign syllables again, clogging the clear stream of sound like debris in a storm drain. I swung the door shut behind me, took the two steps it took to cross the room, then knelt on the floor at his side.

"Cas."

Blue eyes turned in my direction, and the flow of words halted. "Hello, Dean." A soft smile, one I hadn't earned, pulled up his lips. The sound of that phrase – in _his_ voice – yanked at the thread tied to my rib hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"Why do you weep?"

This wasn't quite what I'd expected. "It's been a while since I've heard your voice, man. I didn't realize how much I missed it."

Those chapped lips pulled into a frown, and confusion filled his azure eyes. "But we speak every day, do we not?"

 _What_? "Cas, you've been gone for almost a _year_. I came to find you, to make sure you were happy wherever you went when you left us."

"Left you? Dean, you are not making any sense. I have not-"

I'd reached out a hand to the velvet sandpaper of his cheek, wanting to feel the solid reality of him beneath my fingers, but the second I got my wish, his face changed, like he'd been struck by lightning, and he stood up and backed away as much as the room would allow, pressing a shaking hand to his face where my fingers had been.

"What are you? Are you here to torment me?"

"What? _No!_ It's me, Dean. I'm here to… well, rescue you, I guess."

He was shaking his head. "No, you cannot be him. I see him every day, the lady allows me that, but there is nothing to touch. He is not really here. You, you are solid. So you are of this realm."

He drew himself up, the trembling ceasing and the fear leaving his face as suddenly as it had come. A whisper of his terrible strength sparked within his eyes. Something huge and invisible – two somethings, I guess – unfurled behind him, brushing along the walls and ceiling. "Be wary if you mean to toy with me. I may be an outcast, but I am far from powerless."

 _Oh, for Chuck's sake._ I crossed my arms over my chest. "And what would it take to convince you that I'm actually Dean Winchester, here to save the day like I am hopelessly inclined to do at every opportunity?"

A corner of his mouth quirked up before he caught himself, forcing it back to seriousness. "I left the real Dean Winchester with a mission: to take care of a precious burden. Possibly the most important mission he has ever had."

"Yeah, yeah. Jack's outside with Sam and the rest of our family. How do you think we got here?"

Cas's mouth hung open a bit, and his body swayed toward me the slightest bit, but he shook himself and pulled back. "Dean Winchester would never come for me. He cares so little for himself, he would think he did not deserve it."

I flinched. "Well, you're not wrong, but I'm choosin' to be selfish, just this once. Because _you_ deserve it. At least, you deserve the _choice_ of it."

I saw him mouth the word _choice_ to himself. "You are offering me a choice?"

"Team Free Will, baby," I said, making an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. "It's kind of our deal, after all."

He still hesitated, and the space between us ached like all the broken bones he'd ever healed for me, all at once.

"Look, just…" I held out my hand. "Just feel my soul, alright? It's the same one you pieced back together molecule by molecule before you gripped me tight and raised me from perdition. After that, if you disagree, I'll walk right back out that door and you never have to see me again."

And still he didn't move, eyes like chips of ice in his impenetrable mask of a face. Another piece of my heart, so hopeful only seconds before, cracked off and fell into the void. I dropped my hand and turned on my heel in preparation to walk back out the door, knowing that if I left this place and he wasn't with me, there wouldn't even remain the half a man Gabe had noticed.

"Wait," came his voice from behind me, halting me in my tracks. "I will perform this test you suggest. I do not believe that Dean Winchester's soul can be mimicked. It is the single most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed."

I bowed my head and stayed where I was, letting a few tears escape down my cheeks where he couldn't see them. A cautious hand was placed on my back, fingers cupping over the groove of my spine, and a golden glow flowed through me. I could taste it on my tongue, like ozone but warmer, softer.

It touched off an echo deep down inside me, resonating like a church bell.

The fingers on my back clenched into a fist in my shirt, then let go and dropped away. "It is truly you," he said, voice barely audible. "Why have you come?"

Now we were getting somewhere. I spun back around, ready to grab him and cradle him to my chest, but his posture was closed off and his face was blank as new paper.

"Cas, I came for _you_. Like I said, to offer you a choice. To ask your lady if you can come back to Earth with us, if that's what you want." I paused, but if I was ever going to just _fucking say it_ , it needed to be _now_. "To come back to Earth with _me_ , in particular."

His eyes flickered up to mine, catching me in one of our staring contests, the ones that Sam used to mock us for. Except this time, it was like drowning in their ocean depths, because if I fucked this up, this was going to be the last time I'd ever see them like this, and it was killing me.

"I _died_ , Dean Winchester. I used every power I had in your service, I gave you everything, including the end of my term in the reality you call Earth. I have nothing left to give you. What more do you want from me?"

A shitty children's book, one of the ones Sam had brought home near the beginning of his literacy campaign, flitted through my head. Shel Silverstein's _The Giving Tree._ If it hadn't been a library book, I would have burned it. Selfish bastard, taking and taking from his friend, never giving anything back, and the poor tree letting herself be used, her friend's happiness becoming hers even when it was hurting her. When had I allowed that to become my reality?

"There's _you_ , Cas. That's all I want. I don't want your powers, I don't care if you have angel mojo or not. I want _you_ to come back with me, to _be_ with me. I was too emotionally retarded, too defensive about needing anyone, to realize what you were. I hurt you, over and over, and I never… I never told you how much I appreciated you just for being there, being who you were.

"This last year, I've had Jack, and a pretty normal life, as our lives go, and any other person would have been happy. But there's no happiness for me out there, not any more, not if you're not there. And you're well within your rights to tell me I don't deserve happiness – Hell, I _know_ I don't deserve it – but ever since you came to us, you've pinned your happiness to mine, and _you_ deserve happiness more than anyone I've ever met.

"Now, if you think you can find that happiness here, even if it takes some time for your brothers to come around, then I meant what I said. I will walk out that door, and Jack will take us all back to Earth, and I will never hurt you again.

"Or, you can come with me to petition your lady, and if she approves, we can go home together as a family. And more, if that's what you want."

His crystal eyes had been cold and blank for most of my little speech, arms crossed hard across his chest, but his tight posture loosed just the slightest at my last sentence. "What do you mean by _more_?"

 _Don't fuck this up, Dean. You won't get another shot._

"I…" _SAY IT._ "I _love_ you, and not just how I love Sam. You're-"

I had to pause to take in a single hitching breath – actually saying the word out loud had pulled a cork inside me somewhere. "You're my entire friggin' _world_. I want to share my life with you, like, cheesy romance movie-style. I want to watch sunsets with you, and wake up to your face every morning.

"I want to make you happier than you've even been in your entire existence. I want to wrap myself around you until you fill in this fucking hole you left in me when your Chuck-damned brother sent you away.

"But this isn't about what I want. Up until now, it always has been, but after everything you've been through, after everything you've sacrificed, you deserve the choice. It's-" I shrugged. "It's the only thing I know how to do for you."

My shoulders slumped, spent. I'd laid it all out for him, said what I'd come here to say, and now he had to choose, and I had to live with his decision.

"Dean." He paused, and I saw his throat work as he swallowed. "You know I am not… human. I cannot be what a human companion would be. I cannot ask you to-"

I threw my arms up. "Do you think I give a shit about that? I want _you_. You _will_ know your own worth, even if I have to go shake the doors of Heaven for it."

His voice was rough, rougher than usual, like he'd been gargling glass. "This choice, I cannot- I do not-"

One shaking hand clutched at the shirt over his chest. "I thought I was trapped here for an eternity, with a family that had turned on me. Never to see you again. Hell, instead of the Heaven our Father intended it to be. And that pain was the worst I had ever felt.

"And then you come, really you, not the simulacrum our lady allows me. And you ask me to pick my sword back up and rejoin the fight that is the reality of Earth, after finally being allowed to lay it down and rest. And you are a simulacrum of yourself, your soul burdened by grief. You are one more battle I would have to fight if I should choose to return. That thought, too, is painful.

"But the thought of you walking away, leaving me to my own fate. That-"

He stopped, closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath. "That is a pain I am unable to face."

His eyes opened again, huge in his drawn face, spearing me through the chest.

"So…?"

"I know what must follow, but I choose to go with you."

There was an explosion in the pit of my stomach. He looked more resigned than ecstatic about his choice, but he was giving me a chance. A chance was all I needed. "May I… may I hug you?"

He gave me a confused head tilt. _Fuck_ , I had missed those. It drove me over the edge, and I covered the space between us at a run and yanked him in to my chest.

He fit in my arms like he belonged there, and I was prepared to spend the rest of my life proving to him that he did. I had one arm around his back, fingers brushing through unseen feathers, and the other hand cupping the nape of his neck beneath his too-long hair, pressing him close, trying to pretend I wasn't shaking, wasn't savoring the most bittersweet ache of homecoming I'd ever felt.

Because he was right, this probably wasn't going to be easy. I had just taken on the biggest job of my life. Bigger than protecting humanity and saving the world, more important than making sure Jack didn't take after his father: Cas's happiness. But in all my years as a Hunter, _this_ was a thing _worth_ fighting for.

Slowly, hesitantly, he slid his own arms around my back in return. When I didn't let go and pull back, didn't clap him on the shoulder and tell him he was like a brother to me, his grip tightened, hands bunching in my shirt. I couldn't breathe from the pressure of his angelic strength, but I'd be damned if I was going to tell him to stop, especially not when I felt wet spots bloom on my shirt where his face was pressed.

We stood there in his hut of isolation, squeezing each other until black spots began to dance in my vision due to lack of oxygen. Then Sam shouldered through the door, shouted, "Thank Chuck for that!" and threw himself at us both.

"Dude," I gasped as his long arms nearly lifted us off of the ground, Cas's grip loosening in surprise. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"Sorry, couldn't help it," said Jack as he and the rest of our party filed in. "Comes with the empathic powers. I told them that it felt like you had patched things up, and he just ran off."

Sam let us go and backed off a step, shrugging apologetically. "They kept making _yikes_ faces as they listened in, I was getting worried you would choose not to come home with us."

Cas, still encircled by my arm (mostly because I refused to let him go), said, " _They_?"

"Hello, Castiel. It is a pleasure to see you looking well again."

"Hey, Cassie. How's the hermit life treating you?"

"Anna. Gabriel. You-" He cut himself off, glanced over the rest of the group now filling the too-small room. "Claire," he breathed.

She gave him a teary smile. "Hi, Castiel. I made them bring me along. I wanted to see you, to tell you I was doing okay."

He stepped away from me, and I let him go, already missing his solid presence pressed to my side. He placed his hands on Claire's shoulders, looking her over in much the same way that Jody had when she'd met Jack. He pulled her in for the same fierce hug, too, but Claire hugged back just as fiercely.

"You are looking well," he rumbled into her hair.

She stepped back, wiping her eyes, and beamed at him. "I've been working hard, trying to be better. Dean's been a big help."

He exchanged a parental glance with Jody, who nodded, smiling.

"My turn?" said Jack, stepping forward.

Cas blinked at him, then frowned. "You are Kelly's child? Dean said I had only been gone a year."

Jack stuck his hand out. Cas looked at it, recognized the human gesture, and then put his own in it. Something passed between them – in both directions – and Cas's eyes showed understanding.

"Did you just give him your memories?" I asked, squinting at them both.

Jack shrugged, letting Cas's hand go. "It seemed the most efficient way to bring him up to speed." He held Cas's gaze. "Thank you for believing in me."

Cas looked around at all of us assembled in his living room. "I thought my family had turned against me."

"We're the family you get to choose," said Sam, unable to stop grinning. "It's really good to see you, Cas."

His eyes landed on me again. There was a sort of dazed smile in them, and I vowed to myself he would wear that look as often as possible. "So, Cas. Are you ready to go petition your lady?"

He nodded, and we all turned toward the door of the hut. And then, the hut dissolved around us and we were all standing in a vast hall in front of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, sitting on a carved wooden throne behind a feast table.

Her red-gold hair spilled down her back in flowing waves, and her eyes were the green of summer grass. When she smiled at us, it warmed me down to my toes.

I threw a sidelong glance at my brother. "Dude, are we supposed to bow? Kneel?"

He gave me a frantic shrug in return, so I settled for bowing just my head. I figured that, as a goddess and the mistress of this realm, she would let me know if I'd gotten it wrong.

Her laugh flowed past us like a waterfall. "Respect from the Winchesters? Today must be my lucky day."

A spike of alarm ran up my back, but she waved it off. In one graceful movement, she picked a strawberry off the small pile in front of her and dipped it into a bowl of honey that looked suspiciously like the one we'd set out on our altar for her.

"You have every right to be suspicious of me, if you judge me by the standards of the other gods you have encountered. However, this place belongs to me, and you are my guests. I would not harm you, especially not after accepting such a wonderful and thoughtful offering. You have no idea how difficult it is to get good strawberries here."

She put the fruit onto her tongue, and her eyes slid closed in pleasure as she bit down with slightly sharp white teeth. Her ecstasy-filled face tugged at my memory, reminding me of something, but I didn't have time to pin it down, because her eyes had reopened, and she was going on.

"However, many of my charges here have told me of you, and your actions in Midgard are much discussed among the Aesir. Loki is a particular bore about you."

From his position at Sam's shoulder, Gabriel gave an unconcerned shrug. Sam had mentioned that Loki wasn't a particular favorite of Freyja's, but that she was usually willing to listen to him when the cause was just.

"I was moved by your pleas, just as I was moved by Loki's when he and Anna, my captain, requested that Castiel be given particular favor. They seemed to imply that after close association with the Winchesters, it would be difficult for him to reintegrate."

She tapped a pale, elegant finger on her ruby lips, and gave me a wicked smirk. "After associating with the one called Dean Winchester myself, I would be inclined to agree."

Her image flickered to a semblance of Angela the barmaid, and my mouth dropped open. Not even Sam's hiss of "Dude, come _on_ ," his verbal version of the disapproving eyeroll, or Gabriel's loud hooting laughter could bring me back. Holy _fuck._ We'd only been allowed in here on the basis of my love for Cas; had I messed that all up for one night of casual sex?

"Relax, Dean, I'm a goddess of fertility as well as love, remember?" She held up her other hand, and pulled my ring off her thumb, holding it up so that it caught the light. "Besides, I know what it is, to require carnal fulfillment when your love is away."

She shot Gabriel a pointed look, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement, still grinning. I recalled a story that Sam had told us, of how Loki had tried to get all the other gods to shame her for having sex with someone else while her husband was out of the area, and how the other gods had shamed Loki instead, telling him it wasn't a big deal, and none of his business anyway.

"The only hitch was, did Castiel feel the same way about you? I needed to hear him say it. He had requested the sight of you to keep him company in isolation, but it could well have been because he knew he'd never see you again. I needed to know how he would react, and how you would accept his reaction, when confronted with reality."

I stood frozen before her, ready to accept her judgment, but I jumped a little when a cold hand slipped into mine, fingers interlacing. Cas stood at my side, shoulders back, head high, eyes blazing. It was awe-inspiring.

"I thank you for your boons to ease my suffering while I dwelled in your realm, my lady. I would beg a final one: that I be able to return to Midgard with Dean Winchester and the rest of my family."

I felt so fucking proud of him, I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.

"The rest of your family, Castiel? To what extent? Would you rob me of my armies, promised to me by your father himself? Or just my generals, the ones who, like Anna here, have associated with the Winchesters to the extent that they have changed their essential natures?"

Anna had been standing toward the back of the group, hoping to go unnoticed, but that was never going to have worked. She stepped forward now. "I do not ask to leave, my lady. I am content to wait here with you until the final battle."

Freyja nodded at her, pleased. "And you, Loki? Do you wish to return to Midgard? You are no part of my Host, whatever your father may have promised me."

Gabriel's face warred with itself, his flippant nature battling with his need to take this seriously. "I would like the option to visit Midgard when I am called, my lady." His serious side lost a small skirmish despite winning the war, and he added, "Or if I get bored."

Freyja's eyes danced with mirth. "Acceptable. You trouble me the most when boredom takes you. Let the children of Midgard deal with your childish pranks."

"Hey, I got you out of marrying that Frost Giant, didn't I? Didn't seem to think I was being childish then."

"You put Thor in a dress! It never should have worked! I still don't know how you both pulled it off!"

I squeezed Cas's fingers as they continued to bicker with the good-natured fondness of long acquaintance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips turn upward. He squeezed back.

" _Anyway_ ," Freyja said, dismissing a smirking Gabriel and turning back to us. From the look on his face, he seemed to think he'd won that exchange. "As to the rest of your family, Castiel?"

"Just these present, thank you. I do not believe the others of the Host would feel it a boon the way I would, to be returned to the life they were leading."

"These present," she said, tapping her fingers on the arm of her throne. "What an interesting family you have chosen for yourself. These two women of worth, for example. The younger, you have wronged, but made reparations to, and she seems to have more than forgiven you. The older, however, you have hardly met?"

Castiel looked over at Jody, suddenly concerned. Jody gave him a reassuring smile, then addressed herself to the goddess. "I'm here to watch over his family until he gets back. I haven't known him for long, it's true, but the stamp he left on the people who love him is impossible to ignore."

"Your prayers were particularly fervent, over the altar at the entrance," Freyja said.

"I have known Dean Winchester for many years," Jody replied. "I have seen him during good times, and during bad times, and during the worst possible times there ever could be. But I have never seen a hole in him the way I did when Castiel was taken. He is a good man, and even though I don't know Castiel that well, I am more than certain he is a good man as well, angel or not. If two good men who have given so much can't have happiness in this world, then there's no justice and no reason to keep fighting."

Freyja smiled. "And you, child of two worlds? What is the reason for your presence? The way I see it, you have never actually met Castiel before."

Jack twitched at being addressed directly, but recovered. "My lady, that's not quite right. Castiel's grace shaped me from the inside, allowed me to be open to what is good and moral and right despite my parentage. In a way, he's been with me since before I was born. I have relied on his quiet presence in my soul on many occasions."

Claire stepped up beside him, gripping his hand. He gave her a smile that he shared with the rest of us before turning back to Freyja. "He has opened many doors for me, doors which would have been closed and locked against me if he had not supported my mother and believed in me as he did. If he had allowed my father to have me, I would not be anything like the person I am today."

"Your father," said the lady, drumming her fingers on the armrest again. "He was a vexing topic for your grandfather when we were arranging our contract. There was always the inevitability of his arrival here on the moment of his death, and your grandfather was concerned for my safety, that Lucifer would try to overthrow me. It was sweet, really."

I exchanged a wide-eyed look with my brother. All that time spent trying to kill Lucifer, and he would have just ended up in this Angel Utopia.

"He would have _tried_ ," Freyja emphasized, in a voice of steel. "Please, remember, this is _my_ realm."

She didn't elaborate, but she didn't need to.

She re-addressed herself to the angel at my side. "Castiel, are you absolutely certain that this is what you want? You did bring up some valid concerns during your conversation with Dean Winchester."

Castiel gave a firm nod. "Dean may have hurt me in the past, but he has _never_ disappointed me. I do not believe he will do so now."

Freyja nodded, and then was standing before us, with no time spent rising or moving around the table. Handy trick, that.

"Then it is only left to hand out blessings." She placed hands on Claire and Jody's foreheads. "Claire Novak, Jody Mills, may you both be prosperous and powerful in your world of Men. May you know your own power, and never let anyone take it from you."

She moved along to Jack, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Child of two worlds, may you know yourself, and accomplish your goals. You have a worthy heart. May you defend it from corruption."

Next, she stepped to me. "Dean Winchester." She stopped, giving me a smile like warm honey before reaching up to my face and bringing it down for a kiss. A fairly involved one, too, not the ceremonial peck I was expecting. She tasted like strawberries and sunlight and life itself. She pulled away and gave me another smile.

"We'll talk soon," she said. "I believe this is yours." And she held my ring up. In a daze, I held up my left hand, and she slipped it back onto my finger. The sapphire caught the light streaming into the hall through openings in the wooden roof, flaring blue. Castiel's eyes sharpened, but there was no time to talk about it now.

"Angel Castiel," she said, moving on. "May you find your happiness. In all the times you have visited my realm in the past, it has been your father who has released you, and erased your memory of it. This will be the first time you bring it away with you. May you find peace, even if Midgard itself is full of war."

He bowed his head, and she gave his shoulder a squeeze before moving on.

"Sam Winchester," she said, cupping my brother's cheek. "May you find peace for the war within yourself. You are a good man, and your good deeds outweigh the circumstances behind the losses of your mother and Jessica Moore. May you one day allow yourself to follow your heart and live the life you desire."

She ran long fingers through his hair. "And someday, may you tell me the secret of your wondrous tresses."

Sam's mouth fell open in shock, but she was laughing and moving on to the last person in line, as Anna had moved away to stand beside the throne.

"Loki, little brother of my heart," she said, taking his hand in hers. "We have had our disagreements in the past, but it is a new Age, and Midgard blazes us a strange path. May you find yourself some humans to keep you settled, to give balance to your wild nature. You may not be of the same creation as the Aesir and Vanir, but you are family here all the same. Keep in touch. Send strawberries."

Gabriel looked awed and humbled. I'd never seen his face take on that shape before; it was fascinating.

And then Jack was glowing, looking confused, and his hand was rising, and then a harpstring of light appeared before the high table.

"Castiel, if you ever change your mind, or if you are ever taken from Midgard during the natural turmoil that is life there, you are always welcome here. I will see you again some day, but not, I hope, for some time hence."

* * *

We emerged, blinking, in the clearing, with Claire's candle burning very low on the now-empty altar.

Jack slipped the cord of his amulet back around his neck.

Sam checked his watch. "We've been gone about ten hours, apparently."

"Fantastic," said Claire. "I'm _starving_. Jody, have you got enough leftovers for everyone?"

* * *

We made a detour and stopped by my truck in the yard. Everyone else stood back a little while I carefully removed the concealing tarp.

Cas gazed down at its precious cargo. "You did all this, knowing I would return?"

"Hoping, Cas. We hoped. It was all I had left."

He turned to look at me. "Did it not occur to you to just… let me go? You have lost people before."

"Never you," I told him. "You _always_ come back. We just had to be a little… proactive this time."

He stroked the sparkling surface, and it dissolved beneath his fingers. He yanked his hand back in alarm, but Jack called out a "sorry, design flaw" from the background, and he seemed reassured.

"Go ahead, Cas. It's yours." I watched him stare at his former vessel. "I'm guessin' your lady equipped you and Gabriel to walk the earth as you are now, but if you feel more comfortable in somethin' more solid…?"

He nodded, closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, took a deep breath, and dissolved into a swirling column of light. The light spun upward, and then curved, narrowed, and entered the mouth of the vacant body in the truck bed.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. I exchanged worried glances with the rest of the group, but then a loud rasping inhale came from the body, and he sat up, coughing. I held out my hand to him, and he took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Warmth spread through my entire body, melting the harsh edges of my pet void.

It wasn't going to disappear overnight, but a start had been made.

* * *

After the humans cleaned out Jody's fridge, the whole group split up. There were some discussions that needed to be had, in order to move forward. Claire volunteered herself and Jack for dishes again, and Gabriel claimed the living room for himself and Sam and Jody – Chuck knows what _they_ were going to talk about – so Cas and I took a walk.

I felt strangely shy as we set off eastward into the woods, lit by eerie pre-dawn twilight. We hopped fallen trees and forged through overgrown brush, not speaking, but letting our hands brush whenever the path narrowed, casual enough to seem accidental.

He kept looking up when there was a break in the trees above us. It was probably nice to see our stars again.

Eventually, we reached a bluff overlooking a plain. We sat side by side on a moss-covered log, legs pressed together. I felt the tension in his frame, as he waited for me to make some awkward excuse and move away, but I was long past that crap.

"Anything you want to talk about, now's the time, angel," I told him. "If you want to walk away, it's still an option."

"There is the Dean I am familiar with," he responded, lips quirking upward. "Did I leave your self esteem behind when I raised you from Hell?"

I shrugged. "I've been a really terrible friend in the past. We both know it. I'm just glad you're willing to give me a chance to make it up to you."

"Dean," he sighed. _Fuck_ , I would never get tired of the sound of my name on that tongue. "There is nothing to make up. This is a new beginning, a chance to start again. We have both made mistakes, both hurt each other. Can we agree to what you humans call a clean slate?"

I wanted to hold onto the guilt, to castigate myself with it, so that I'd never forget how low I could sink, but he grabbed my face and turned it so that we could lock eyes. "I mean it. If we are to make this work, whatever _this_ turns out to be, there can be no blame given or accepted for past deeds."

He grinned then, and starlight sparkled in his clear eyes. "Not even fornicating with goddesses, even though you wear a promise ring."

"I- She- You- Oh, come on!" I spluttered. His laughter was as rough as an unused cat purr.

He picked up my left hand, so the ring caught the starlight as well. "Do you mean this, Dean? Truly mean it? I did not lie in my hut, I cannot promise all that a human companion can in terms of sexual relations, and I know that means a great deal to you."

"And like _I_ said, I don't give a shit. As long as I have you to wake up to, and as long as you understand that I do have needs, that I will _explicitly_ discuss with you prior to any action on my part, I have everything I could ever want in this world. I realize that you won't be inclined, by nature, to participate, and I won't hold it against you. I will _never_ force you into anything that you aren't comfortable with."

He dropped his gaze to his lap for a minute, and then gave me a sideways glance through long eyelashes. "And if I _was_ inclined to participate?"

My mind went blank, with a sort of roaring white noise in the background. "What?"

"You are a heterosexual human being, Dean, you have never made a secret of that fact. If I were to express the desire to kiss you now, inhabiting a human male as a vessel, how would you react?"

Fire raced through my veins, and I held his gaze like my life depended on it. I wasn't entirely certain that it didn't. "You'd better be fucking serious right now."

His face went all confused and adorable. "I am always serious."

"And I wouldn't change you for all the burgers in Texas."

And I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in, sliding my other arm around him and pulling him close. Our mouths slotted into each other like puzzle pieces. His lips were a little unsure, a little clumsy beneath mine, but it felt like Heaven to me. One of his arms was circling my back, and one was clenched in my shirt as we drank each other in, my heart pounding so hard I was certain he could feel it against his knuckles.

I ran my tongue over the seam of his mouth, asking for permission, and his lips parted, allowing me entrance. I pressed him closer, plundering him with my tongue, tasting cinnamon and something tart, like limes, before finally withdrawing, panting a bit, and pressing my forehead into his. He'd ended up in my lap, somehow, knees pressed into the log on either side of my hips, and his denser-than-human weight was more comforting than any safety blanket.

He seemed to be panting a little as well, and I took pride in the fact that I'd made a being who didn't need to breath, breathless.

"Was that okay, angel?" I asked him.

His eyes, less than an inch from mine, flipped open, and I thought I was going to melt from the heat in them.

"Give yourself some credit, Dean. You know _damn_ well that it was."

I felt my own eyes go wide. I'd made an angel blaspheme. Holy shit.

"For my own reference, are you referring to me by my species, or as what you humans call a pet name?"

"It's a pet name, angel. Besides, different species can't interbreed, and you seem to be presenting evidence to the contrary."

I waggled my eyebrows at him, and got a startled look in return, but with him in my lap, I couldn't miss the effect I'd had on him. It was pressed right up against the effect he'd had on me.

After a second to process, his lips quirked up again. "Another boon from my lady, it appears. I seem to have been given the gift of empathy. We should take advantage of it, I am not certain how long it will last."

"Challenge accepted," I told him, and dove back in for seconds, thirds, and fourths, as the sun rose over the plain and painted everything rosy and gold.

* * *

We hit our first fight just a few hours later, at breakfast, in front of everyone.

"Cas, no. You shouldn't have to come with us. That's not why I wanted you back, not for this. He _literally_ killed you last time you faced him, remember?"

Gabriel raised an insouciant hand in the air, waggling his fingers. "Hello? Same boat, here?"

I snapped my head around to shout at him, too, but he had a valid point. I felt my shoulders deflate, and I turned back to Cas, whose eyes were now glowing with fury.

"I did not choose to return with you so that you could keep me in a box, Dean Winchester. You promised to show me my value? I will not learn it by being wrapped in tissue paper! If you are mounting a rescue mission for Mary, then I will be on it, or I do swear by my father, when you return, I will not be here!"

Everyone else's heads bounced back and forth as if they were being entertained by a particularly fascinating tennis match.

Panic burned in my gut. "Cas, I just got you back! I can't lose you again."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "The chance of losing me in a battle for a worthy cause, or the _certainty_ of losing me if you leave me out. This time, the choice is _yours_."

We locked eyes, and I put all of my pleading and despair into my gaze, and he put all of his completely justified anger and frustration into his.

The connection we'd made at sunrise, the one that had continued when I'd woken up with him tucked into my arms, solid and warm, still resonated in my soul. He was right, of course. I bowed my head, looking away first.

Of _course_ he'd join us when we went to get Mom back. I just felt like shit, asking it of him, when he could have been sitting in a peaceful cabin by a lake, not bothered about Lucifer ever again, and he'd chosen this instead, because of _me_.

I felt a hand on my chin, pressing upward until my eyes met his again. The anger was gone, leaving only a warm glow and a small smile. "Stop blaming yourself for my choices, Dean. Even you cannot be so arrogant."

I felt one corner of my mouth quirk up. "I can try."

He leaned in and connected our mouths for a brief moment, and suddenly our argument didn't seem so important. We pulled apart at a _squee_ noise coming from Claire, whose eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Sorry," she said, making spasmodic hand gestures. "I'm just so _happy_ for you guys."

"Her ' _ship_ ' came in," Jack added, helpfully. "It's a big deal for fangirls."

"Shut _up_ ," she said, slapping at him and turning a particularly fetching shade of red.

The tension in the kitchen broke, and everyone laughed in relief over their bowls of cereal, though I held onto a little niggle of concern. I was going to take my other half on another Winchester field trip, back into the lion's den.

* * *

Prior to the argument, we'd decided to give ourselves another day for rest and recovery before the expedition to the Mirrorverse. Gabriel and Cas headed back to the warded clearing, to test each other's limits, to make sure their powers still functioned as expected.

Sam and I tagged along, promising to stay out of the way. Sam said it was because he wanted to see what they were capable of, but I was pathetic enough to admit to myself that I didn't want to let Cas out of my sight just yet.

When they were standing in the gap among the silent trees, on either side of the bare stone altar, Gabriel said, "Well, let's whip 'em out."

Sam made a choking sound, causing Gabe's grin to hitch higher, before the clearing was filled with feathers. Gabriel had two sets of wings, with feathers grading from forest green to pure gold, glinting in the light that trickled into the glade as he flexed them.

Cas's wings were…

"Dean, are you okay?"

Sam's voice shook me out of whatever trance had taken hold, and I was surprised to find that tears had leaked from my eyes. Cas's wings had been sad, broken things for a long, long time. To see them like this, full and glorious, deep iridescent blue and amethyst and _alive_ , was almost more than I could bear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine." I wiped my face on the sleeve of my flannel.

Luckily, the two angels in the clearing hadn't noticed my momentary distress. "Show me what you got, little bro," Gabe said, hefting his archangel blade. Cas grinned at him in anticipation, letting his own shorter blade slide into his hand. Did they keep them in a pocket dimension or something? I'd never asked.

Then two angels were gone, replaced by whirling lights that darted around the glade, striking sparks from each other when they met. The sparks danced for a good twenty minutes, sometimes halting to show Cas at bay on the ground with Gabriel's blade pointed at his throat, sometimes showing Cas holding Gabriel up against a tree with his forearm against his windpipe, blade pressed to his chest, but something always tipped the balance, and they were off again.

Eventually, the dancing lights resolved into two figures flat on their backs beside each other, feathers tangled together, chests rising and falling rapidly while the sound of angelic laughter rang through the clearing like joyous thunder.

After a few minutes, Gabriel popped up and shouted, "Ice cream!"

I exchanged confused glances with my brother, but a cry of _"c'mon, Samwich"_ interrupted us, and then both Gabriel and my brother were gone in a flutter of wings and an abortive _wha-_ that could only have come from Sam.

This left me alone in a sunlit glade with my angel. An angel who was now propping himself up on his elbows and looking at me with smoldering eyes, and I felt like prey. "Dean. Come here."

My feet moved of their own accord before my brain got with the program, and I was kneeling beside him in seconds. "What?"

Well, I started to say the word, but I'd barely gotten my mouth open when my back hit the ground, pinned with heavy hands on my shoulders and chapped lips devouring mine.

So, life-affirming horniness after battle wasn't just a human thing. Good to know. I made a note of the fact, and then shut off the thinking part of my brain for a while.

* * *

"I could not hear you," he murmured later, curled against my bare chest. The sun threw warm shadows through his mussed hair, giving him a hazy halo, and I could feel his wings curled around us both, invisible but cozy.

I had been smoothing a hand up and down his back, caressing the area where his wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, wringing little purring noises from him, but now I paused and made a vague interrogatory noise.

"In my lady's realm. For the first time, I could not hear you when you prayed. The part of me that senses you went blank, as if it was _you_ who had died, not me. It very nearly broke me."

I realized that he'd curled up this way on purpose, skin to skin, one hand draped possessively across my torso, with his ear pressed to my chest, listening to my heart beat.

"I knew Father would not bring me back, not this time, not after I had disappointed him so badly. I did not hope for rescue – not even we angels knew where we went when we died, how could I expect humans to? So instead _I_ prayed to _you_. I prayed to Dean Winchester, that he find happiness and be at peace, and successful in the final task that I had dumped into his lap before abandoning him.

"At my lowest points, I left off the last part, about guiding the nephilim so that he did not destroy the world. I figured, the world could fall into the Pit, as long as Dean Winchester was happy. Does that make me a terrible creature?"

I ran gentle fingers through his tousled hair, wishing I could see his face. "You were dead, Cas. I think, at that point, it's okay to stop feelin' responsible for the world."

I felt his mouth curve upward where his cheek was pressed into my skin. "I had no way of knowing if you heard me, but I found it a great comfort anyway."

He wiggled around a bit, until his chin was balanced on my sternum. I found the twinkle in his eyes instantly suspicious.

"I know now you _must_ have heard me, or else, why would you have had intercourse with my lady while she was wearing earthly guise, when promised to me?"

I thought about being embarrassed for a split second, but I'd done it, and it still didn't feel wrong to me, so damned if wasn't going to own it. I gave him back my most innocent grin. "Oh, the three of us had a grand time that night."

He sat up a bit, eyes going wide. "Three?"

"Yeah, picked up a sexy wayfarer from south of the border. He and I worshipped the ever-livin' heck out of your lady."

Cas's eyebrows climbed higher, and he pushed himself up by bracing a hand on my ribcage. " _He?_ "

I bent an arm, stuck a hand behind my neck, and dialed my grin up to the laziest, sultriest one in my vast repertoire. "Just an innocent vampire who was seekin' a touch of company, to fend off the loneliness."

Most people's voices go high and squeaky with incredulity. Hilariously, Cas's seemed to go deeper and more gravelly, so his croak of, " _Vampire_?!" came out sounding like Christian Bale's Batman interrogating Scarecrow, and I collapsed in helpless laughter.

"You… you are serious?"

I took a few deep breaths to calm down, then opened my arm to welcome him back in. He laid back down willingly enough, but he looked amazed as he pressed his cheek back into my chest, this time facing me.

"But, Dean… that does not sound like you at all."

I shrugged my shoulder into the leaf mould, then held my hand straight above us so that my ring caught the light. "I'd been alone for so long, with this gaping hole where you used to be. I wasn't even looking for anything that night besides a room full of other people and a good burger. The rest of it just sort of… happened. I thought about it, about all of it, and I figured, who am I to judge a person by his teeth, or by his gender, or by his past? We have to play the hand we're dealt.

"I mean, look at _you_. You're a pillar of light the size of the Chrysler Building, why should the fact that your meat suit has a dick define anything about you?

"Besides, I got a strange sort of feeling that you approved. Javier said he could tell, too."

Cas's eyebrows went up again. "His name was Javier?"

I nodded, letting my hand drop heavily to my side, now that the blood had drained out of it. "I'm going to have to find his previous nest and exterminate them, eventually, but that's a problem for another day."

He nodded, easing his cheekbone into a groove in my ribs, and I picked back up where we'd left off, stroking the base of his wings until he practically melted, and I wanted time to stop there, to freeze us into amber like Jurassic mosquitoes, so that tomorrow would never come.

* * *

Jody made dinner for the humans that night, while the angels pulled Jack aside to discuss abilities and how to use them.

At least, that was what Cas told me when he left my side for the first time since we'd come back through the portal. I pouted at him, but he smiled at me and ran a hand through the hair at my temple while pressing a kiss to my cheek, and while I was busy trying not to turn into a goofily grinning puddle of goo, he slipped away and the door closed behind them.

I turned back to the kitchen to face an array of varying degrees of smirk.

"Dude," said Sam. "You're so whipped."

My macho self-image raged a bit and rattled the cage where I'd locked him away, but that asshole's reign was over. Instead, I just shrugged a " _yeah, so?"_ at my brother.

His smirk turned into a full-on smile. "Good. It suits both of you." And he turned away to help Jody serve, like he hadn't just said some of the most affirming shit I'd heard all day.

Even though I'd been eating home-cooked meals for almost a year now, and presumably Sam had as well, we still had to restrain ourselves from stuffing our faces like savages.

"Mmm, Jody, this is _delicious_ ," I told her, actually managing to swallow first this time. Sam had a tendency to kick me under the table if he disapproved of my manners, and that bastard was wearing his steel-toed boots. "You are a _goddess_."

I paused before my next bite, reminded of something. "Is that why everyone was deferential to you in Freyja's realm? Could they tell?"

Claire rolled her eyes at me, but I was rewarded with the faintest dusting of a blush over Jody's cheekbones. It was barely there, and gone in an instant, but damn, I was chalking that one up on my list of greatest achievements in life.

She made a _stop it, you_ gesture with the hand holding a biscuit. "Actually, Gabriel did try to explain it the night we got back. Apparently, the angels could tell that my family – my _first_ family – was in Heaven already, waiting for me, and that I had chosen to go on living my life, and started a new family for myself, unconventional as it might be. I have a sort of glow, apparently."

"They respect the heck out of that glow, he says," added Sam. "The losing-then-choosing. Something about their father's plan."

Jody shrugged. "Then he threw in something about all short-haired people in Norse mythology being either whores or slaves, so I was lucky I hadn't run into any actual denizens of the realm. Kind of hard to keep up with, conversation-wise, that one."

"He grows on you," said Sam.

"Like mold," I added.

"Ouch, Dean, I'm wounded," said Gabriel, suddenly lounging against the counter, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest.

I glanced at the still-closed door, but he shrugged, and leaned forward to pull a chicken wing off of Sam's plate. "They had more stuff to talk about, but I got bored."

Claire and I exchanged curious looks. It felt weird being in the same boat as a teenage girl, but here we were, our asexual boyfriends closeted with each other, probably talking about us and how to deal with human sexuality. I could only hope that Freyja's gift had given Cas some insight that could help Jack.

I'd miss it when it was gone, but Cas would always be so much more than just physically attractive to me. The fact that he was currently even interested in sex at all was just a huge bonus.

"Ugh, you're being boring, too," Gabe said, pointing his chicken bone at me. "Stop it. We're going to an alternate dimension to fight my jerk brother tomorrow, can we not think about something besides our own sappy human feelings?"

"Speaking of humans," said Sam. "Dean, do you remember that time we got sent to a world where our lives were just a TV show, and we were the actors who played us?"

I gave a delicate shudder, but Gabriel looked intrigued.

"I didn't put it together at the time, but that must have been an alternate universe, too, just like the one where Mom is stuck. How did Balthazar get the kind of juice it took to send us there?"

"He had that stockpile, maybe something in it gave him a boost to nephilim levels? Man, that place was awful."

Gabriel was practically vibrating. "Tell me _everything!_ "

* * *

We called it an early night, once Cas and Jack had rejoined us. We pulled something stupid up on Netflix, and those of us that could sleep, or chose to, slept, and angels watched over us.

* * *

We were gathering our gear for the jump, early the next morning, when I caught Cas looking at me with his curious head tilt. If we both lived past today, I would spend the rest of my life telling him exactly how friggin' adorable he was when he did it, but for now, it meant he had a question to ask, and time was growing short.

"What is it, angel?"

"You no longer consume alcohol with the same ferocity you had been exhibiting when I died. A year ago, you would have packed at least one flask in with your gear and had another on your person somewhere."

It wasn't a question, really, but I answered it anyway. "Correct. Thanks for that, by the way. Just one more way you managed to save me in spite of myself."

He looked blank. "I repaired your liver damage, yes, and altered your chemical receptors, but I do not believe I assisted any further in altering your habits."

I gave him blank right back. "You mean, you didn't… release me?"

He shook his head. I felt sort of shaky and clammy, all of a sudden, and put a hand on a nearby table to steady myself.

"Dean? Are you alright?"

I took a few deep breaths, fighting back the wave of dizziness, and a deep peace spread through me. I could have gone off the deep end, I could have ended up like my dad, but I hadn't. I'd made a choice, and I'd saved _myself_ this time.

"Yeah," I told my angel. "I think I am, actually."

He slid his arms around me, and I dissolved into him. The novelty of this feeling, of being _allowed_ to hold him like this, was still making me kind of giddy, and my heart did some flip-flops in my chest.

"Oi, lovebirds! Get a move on!" called Gabriel from the back door, and we both jumped, but I held on an extra second, just to make a point.

The angels had agreed that we shouldn't be poking more holes in the Universe than was absolutely necessary, so we were going to portal back to the lake house from the altar clearing, and head to the Mirrorverse from the weak spot there.

"It will be fine, Dean," Cas assured me, when we'd shouldered our gear bags and joined the rest of the group. "A simple extraction mission."

"From a desolate Hellscape where you'll be shot on sight, which your brother is probably King of by now," I muttered.

"You call me the second you get back," Claire was saying to Jack, smoothing her hands up and down his arms, tugging at his shirt, trying to get her fill of touching him before we left her behind. She and Jody had opted out of this particular field trip, mostly at our pleading insistence.

"Of course," he said, trapping one of her wandering hands in his own and holding it to his chest. "You'll be the first to know."

"Can't we at least wait at the lake house for you? Why are we stuck out here in South Dakota?"

"Claire, we talked about this," Jody put in. "Just in case anything goes wrong, we shouldn't be anywhere near the other end of that portal."

"I'd be happier if you guys were in Kansas, in our warded bunker, actually," said Sam, but Jody was shaking her head.

"No reception down there, right? And if the end is coming, I want to be able to watch it. I bet it's better than any sunset I've ever seen."

I gave Jody an impulsive hug. "You're a real badass, Sheriff Mills. We'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"You'd damn well better," she said, hugging me back.

It set off a wave, as everyone tried to hug the girls at the same time, and I think Gabriel took advantage of the confusion, because when we all stepped apart, Jody was bright red and seemed a bit flustered. Sam gave him a chiding glare, but he shrugged it off.

And then Jack pulled the Universe apart, and we all stepped through together.

* * *

I'd checked the security before we headed back, and everything showed up green. When we stepped through, if Cas had been a human, I would have crushed his hand from how tight I was gripping it; last time he'd stepped through a portal to this spot, he'd fucking _died_.

This time, though, Jack sealed the portal back up with no sign of the Father of Lies stabbing anyone in the heart, whether it be Cas, literally, or me, figuratively.

Gabriel let out a whistle through his teeth. "Nice digs," he said, checking out the house in its pristine setting. "Whose property were you squatting on, and where did you hide the body?"

I smirked at him. "In plain sight in a diamond casket on the guest bed, all year long."

Gabriel turned to eye his little brother suspiciously. "Where did you get the cash for a place like this, Cassie?"

Cas looked uncomfortable, but was saved from having to answer when Sam noticed that Jack was still staring at the space where the portal had been hanging.

"What's up?"

Jack glanced around at us, then sighed. "I know being able to poke a hole in the fabric of the universe is a neat power and all, but sometimes I really wish I'd gotten wings instead."

The four of us 'uncles' held a quick but silent vote, and Sam easily won for 'most empathetic.' Between me and the angels, we were far more likely to say exactly the wrong thing, so it was Sam who got to go over and put an avuncular hand on Jack's shoulder.

"I know, flying sounds like a sweet deal, but look at it this way. If you didn't have the ability to send your father somewhere very far away, and to make sure he stayed there, then everyone you know would most definitely be dead. And, instead of being Castiel's child with Lucifer's voice in the back of his head, you'd be Lucifer's, and you wouldn't even be able to hear Cas at all."

Jack's lips curved into a grin. "Castiel's child. Yes, that's pretty accurate. Thanks, Sam."

"Hang onto that thought, Jack," Gabe spoke up. "Lucifer has a silver tongue. He lies even sweeter than I do, and I talked my way into someone else's pantheon for _millennia_."

Determination hardened Jack's young face. "Are we ready to do this?"

"Wait, please!"

We all spun around as if stung. There was a small group of people standing at the edge of the tree line. My phone slept against my hip, unaware of any intrusions, which could only mean one thing: angels. Sneaky bastards.

I had to let go of Cas's hand so that we could all take on defensive poses, but he and Gabriel seemed more interested in not meeting anyone's eyes, not being recognized, than in anything else. Luckily, the angels under the trees seemed to have eyes only for Jack.

"You are the nephilim, yes?" said one, who seemed to have nominated himself as spokesperson.

When Jack gave a wary nod, the angel stepped a little away from the trees, holding his arms out in a show of peace. "I am Zuphlas. We have talked long with the soul called Kelly Kline, and held many discussions among ourselves. We know the way to true peace lies through you."

Jack shot me a quick grin. "Told you I had a fan club."

Zuphlas's brow crinkled in confusion, but soon smoothed itself out. "We believe you have the power to re-open the Gates, sealed with a grace stolen by treachery, and the blood of one like yourself. Will you help us?"

Cas went still – well, even _more_ still – beside me, and I wanted to squeeze his hand or offer some other comforting gesture but there was too much risk of drawing attention to him.

Jack very carefully did not look at us. "That sounds like a very worthy cause. Can I put it next on my to-do list? I'm already slated to save one world today, I can do yours after."

The other angels murmured in consternation, but Zuphlas lit up with understanding. "You go to do battle with Lucifer." His companions went silent immediately, and turned huge frightened eyes on him.

"Got it in one, Zuphlas. Any of you want to come with?"

Shit, now they were all looking at _me_. When was I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut?

"No more guests on this field trip, I'm afraid," Jack interrupted as Zuphlas was opening his mouth to respond. "We're just going to pop over, deal with your big brother, and we'll be back before you know it. Feel free to wait, or come back later."

He held up a hand, and the mutterings of protest from his fan club died away as he started to glow. The portal reappeared, hanging in the same space as the one he'd punched from South Dakota. Jack swore that the different universes had different flavors, but all I could see was a gold line where there shouldn't be one, something subtly _wrong_ with the natural laws.

"Catch you guys on the flip side," I told the awed group, then seized Cas's hand again, and we stepped through into the Mirrorverse.


	2. Part 2

We hit the ground running, with Jack barely taking a spare second to pinch the portal back together. If I lived in a universe embroiled in a never-ending war, I'd sure as hell set up some kind of warning system when visitors dropped in, so as soon as our feet touched the blasted plains, we took off like a bunch of cats who'd heard the can opener.

We headed for the nearest cover, a shattered boulder, and when we reached it, we made for the next nearest. We kept this up for a good mile or so, and just when I was feeling extremely proud of myself – this past year of clean living had really upped my cardio game – we heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked, and froze in place in the bombed-looking remains of what had once been a cabin of some sort.

An achingly familiar voice drawled, "Turn around, nice and slow, hands where I can see 'em."

I felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me. Hands trembling a little as I raised them, I turned in a slow circle. "Hey, Bobby," I said, voice rough.

"She keeps sayin' you idjits'll come back fer her. Hell if I know why anyone'd come back here if there was any other option. Guess I should start believin' her. Are these fly-boys botherin' you?"

His tone was friendly enough, but his rifle was still very much pointed at our group as he stepped away from the piece of wall that had concealed him. His face, seamed and worn, was both a comfort and a punch in the gut.

We gave him back our grimmest faces. I had deep-seated reasons for not wanting to disappoint this man, and they were only tangentially related to avoiding being perforated by whatever he'd loaded his anti-angel rifle with. As a denizen of the realm, he had information we could use, about Lucifer, and about Mom.

At least, that was the idea. Jack was frigging _beaming_ , and Bobby was starting to look mildly freaked out by it. "What's your deal, kid?"

Jack waved a hand at him, tried to bring his face under control, failed. "This is going to sound insane, but of all the memories I have in my head that don't belong to me, you are the person I most wanted to see with my own eyes."

Bobby stared at him, tightened his grip on his gun.

"No, please," Jack said, reining it back to a small grin that he couldn't banish completely. "I'm just so happy you're still alive."

"Makes two of us, I reckon," Bobby responded. He shifted his gaze to Gabriel and Cas, who, like Sam and me, were standing as still as possible with hands held high. "These two are with you? From the other side?"

Sam and I nodded as carefully as possible.

"So I shouldn't shoot 'em?"

"We'd very much appreciate it if you didn't," Sam said. "We just got them back from being dead two days ago. It would kind of suck to have gone through all that work for nothing."

I braced myself for Gabriel to make some sort of glib remark, but he held his tongue for once.

"And this one? He ain't no angel, but 'm not sure he's human, either."

"That's correct," Jack said. "I'm neither, and both." He seemed almost giddy.

"Bobby," I rasped, drawing his vaguely horrified gaze away from the kid. "When you said _she_ , did you mean Mary Win- Um, that is, Campbell? Do you know where she is?"

Bobby gave us all one final scrutinizing look, then shrugged. He uncocked the rifle and shouldered it, to everyone's immediate relief. "C'mon, she'll be lookin' forward to the _toldya so_."

He took a few steps, and when we fell into a loose line behind him, he whirled and splashed all of us at once with water from a canteen he'd produced from nowhere. We got glowered at, daring us to protest, but we humored him and dripped holy water in silent resignation.

Satisfied, he led us out of the obliterated cabin, across more destroyed landscapes, through dusty valleys and the remains of a grove of trees. An acrid wind gusted constantly, blowing the sand and dirt into swirling devils that rasped at the skin and stung the eye.

"Don't make a lick of sense," he muttered to himself, eying us all as we trudged toward a largish hill set around with chunks of boulder. "Pretty little thing like that, claimin' you boys are her own grown sons."

Despite the tense atmosphere, I felt a hint of relief. Since Amara had brought her back, she hadn't been too interested in being _Mom_ to us. If she was owning up to it at last, she might even be happy to come back _with us_ , in addition to coming back with us.

"She was gone for most of our formative years, for reasons outside of her control," I answered, even though it had seemed a rhetorical statement. "Cuts down on the wear and tear."

Bobby gave a one-shouldered shrug, like I'd seen him do a hundred times, and I had to remind myself that this was _not_ my Bobby, _not_ the one who'd raised me and my brother when our dad couldn't be bothered. This one didn't know us at all.

I only hoped he'd give us a chance.

"Well, here we are," he said, indicating a gap between two of the larger rocks. Every surface was scrawled with warding symbols and demon traps. "Can you flyboys pass through here? Or are you gonna have to wait outside? Folks are skittish 'round your kind, this side of the universe."

Cas put a restraining grip on his brother's shoulder to forestall whatever was going to come out of his mouth. "We will behave, Bobby Singer."

The extra roughness in his voice reminded me that Cas had known our Bobby as well, had almost been raised by him, too, in his own way.

Bobby caught it, and it made him pause. "Were you-all friends, you angels and the Bobby Singer from your side?"

Cas's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Yes," he answered at last, fitting the years of complexities we'd all experienced together, the betrayals and forgivenesses, into a single hoarse word.

"And you?" Bobby turned to Gabriel.

"He tried to kill me once," Gabe said, unnaturally serious. "It was a good plan, and very well executed. He just didn't have all of the facts."

Bobby grunted and turned away, but I had an advanced degree in Bobby Singer Monosyllables, and if there were any parallels in the Multiverse, this one sounded approving.

"Welcome to the Haven," he said, ducking between the stones. "Only no-fly zone for miles around. Not too many in residence at the moment, but people come and go. We're a roadhouse, not a prison."

The name of Ellen's bar yanked hard on my conscience. We'd lost her the first time we'd faced Lucifer, and now we were back for another shot. We needed information, and we needed it fast. If people were still moving around, then it didn't sound like Lucifer had moved in and subjugated the human race like we'd been expecting.

We emerged into a dim, round room with a large table in the center. The walls were bits of rock fitted together, with chinks left for light to filter through, and several doorways seemed to lead to more underground spaces.

"First things first," Bobby said, leaning his rifle against a wall and pulling a bottle down from a niche near the entrance. "More holy water shots for everyone, and y'all need to hold this silver coin."

When we'd passed his tests, he gestured to the benches beside the table. "Have a seat, I'll go see what Mary's up to."

He vanished downward through a doorway, and we all exchanged confused looks.

"Dude, he said _roadhouse_ ," said Sam. "Do you think-?"

"Let's not get our hopes up. Bobby alone was a huge coincidence," I told him.

Gabriel made a humming noise. "Well, when you think about it, who's most likely to survive, if angels and demons go to war? I'd think hunters are pretty well set-up with the right skills."

"Naw, man, that's _regular_ hunters," I disagreed. " _Hunters_ , with a capital H, would starve to death the minute they shut down the drive-thrus."

There was a sudden clattering on the stairs that Bobby had descended, and then our mother burst into the room.

"Sam! Dean!" And she threw her arms around us, squeezing hard. "I knew you'd come back! If not for me, then for that asshole Lucifer, at least!"

She stood back, grinning at us, and then her eyes caught on Cas, and her mouth dropped open. "But. But. Castiel, you…"

She trailed off, glancing between Cas and me.

"Like a little thing like death would stop a Winchester," I said, shrugging.

"Hello, Mary," Cas said, sounding almost shy.

Her face held onto its confusion for another second, then lit back up in another huge smile, and she pulled Cas in for a bone-crushing hug as well. His blue eyes went wide with astonishment.

" _Damn_ , that makes me so happy! When I went through, the last thing I saw…" She trailed off, glanced at me, then back at Cas again. "Well. I lost my whole universe, but I knew you had lost even more than that. I'm glad you found your way back to each other. And who's this?"

She hung onto Cas's arm, I noticed. They'd had time to bond while Sam and I were stuck in secret government prison. I was glad of it, for both their sakes.

"Right. Mom, this is Gabriel," said Sam, as Gabe slid forward.

Mom's eyes went wide. Bobby, who'd been leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, eying us all with healthy skepticism, let out a hoarse wheeze.

"Holy cow, _really_? How did we get an _archangel_ on our team?"

Gabriel gave her his most charming smile and shook her still-outstretched hand. "Simple, really. Out of the three of us from our side that we _aren't_ here to destroy, one of us is still in the Pit, where Lucifer _should_ be, and the other hates our guts since Cassie here eviscerated him that one time. I'm the obvious choice, especially since the last time I saw my brother, he murdered me. Couldn't pass up the chance to tell him I'm still pretty sore about that."

Mom gawked at him for a second, blinked a few times, closed her mouth, and gave a decisive nod. She firmed her grip on his hand and gave it a proper shake. Gabriel looked pleased.

"I like her," he told Sam. "Maybe more than you."

She rolled her eyes, learning quickly the appropriate response to most of the things that came out of Gabe's mouth, and turned to Jack, who was beaming fit to split his face in half again.

"And this is…?"

"Hi, I'm Jack. It's nice to see you again."

"Again? Wait, _Jack_?"

"Yours was the first face I ever saw," he said, clasping her hand in both of his.

"One second," she told him. She left him in custody of her hand, turning over her shoulder to look at me. "Is time running wonky here? When I get back to the other universe, am I going to find that I've missed thirty more years, instead of just the one that it felt like here? Because I really don't think I could handle that again."

I grinned at her. "Just the one year. They grow up in the blink of an eye, don't they? One minute, it's the pitter-patter, sizzle-crackle of little burning feet, and then they wear a shoe size bigger 'n yours and have a girlfriend."

She turned back to Jack, who had promptly turned tomato-red.

After sizing him up, she reached her other hand up to cup his cheek. "Kelly would be proud of the man you've become," she said.

"Thank you," he replied after a beat, blinking in surprise.

"Hold on a dang minute," Bobby said, stepping forward to interrupt for the first time. "Just what manner of creature _are_ you, kid?"

"Actually, before he answers, can I ask you a question about that?" Sam asked.

Bobby made an exaggerated _go ahead_ gesture.

"How can you tell he isn't human? How can you tell that Cas and Gabriel are angels? People on our earth were entirely oblivious, especially since Jack is wearing an amulet that should keep anyone from sensing anything out of the ordinary about him."

"Well, Mary trusts you-all, so I might as well. My amulet trumps your amulet, I guess."

He reached under the neck of his flannel, hooked a leather string on his fingertips, and pulled out … son of a bitch. Just the sight of that little horned dude made my throat close up. Sam had given it to me when we were kids, and I'd worn it until … until Cas had made me lose faith in it.

Everyone in the room carefully avoided looking at each other.

Bobby, reading the atmosphere, waggled the protection amulet that also happened to detect the presence of God. "I take it this ain't new to you?"

"We've met," said Sam shortly.

"It reacts in the presence of angels," Bobby said. "Useful little thing, 'specially since they can turn invisible. Lit right up when you two walked past, but it got kind of confused when it hit the kid."

"I'm only half-angel," Jack told him. "My mother was a human."

We all braced ourselves; circumstances like Jack's probably weren't too common on this Earth, and there was no telling how this Bobby would react.

"Huh," he said, giving his one-shouldered shrug again. "Different strokes, I guess. So you're just along for the ride, or what? What have you got against Lucifer?"

Jack sent a panicked glance at the rest of us, but we all gave him reassuring nods, so he turned to face Bobby, squared his shoulders, and said, "Lucifer is my father."

Bobby went white under his weather-beaten tan, and Jack hastened to reassure him.

"I have never met him. He was sealed into this universe moments after my birth, mostly thanks to Mary, here, and I was raised and taught to be human by Dean and Sam. I am the only thing my father has ever loved, aside from himself above all things, and his own father, long ago. I believe I can reason with him. Will you tell us where to find him?"

Bobby recovered his composure. "Have a seat, boys. We'll bring you up to speed on everythin'. Y'all might decide you just want to take Mary and go home, without even lettin' Lucifer know you're here."

Jack shook his head. "I have to save this place. I think it's what I'm meant to do."

I glanced at Cas, who was staring at Jack with dawning understanding. He'd believed Jack would save the world, had seen it in a vision, but he was just now getting that the world Jack saved might not be ours.

Jack sat at the table and looked expectantly at Bobby and Mom. "So? Now that the whole party's here, what has my father been up to in the year he's been on your side?"

The rest of us trailed after him and seated ourselves as well, except Bobby, who stood at the head of the table like a professor in a lecture hall, and Mom, who kept pacing around the table and trailing hands over all of us in turn, Gabriel being the exception.

"So. He came through that hole out there last year, backwards, with this one's knife at his throat," Bobby started, motioning to our mother. "I drove him off with ol' Gertie here," he patted his rifle affectionately, "and he took off."

"He shouted at me from a distance," Mom put in, "but Bobby told me we had to get to cover, so we ignored him and headed here. We heard a lot of noise as we were running, like some sort of confrontation, but we didn't stick around to see who was involved."

"Turns out your portal, or maybe whatever that other fella did to seal it, attracted the attention of both armies. Lucifer hit up the head of the demon side fer an introduction to whoever was in charge."

"Is that not Lucifer, then, here?" Sam asked. "I thought our timelines diverged back when Mom and Dad were still going out, when Dad got killed here. Angels have long histories; everything else should be the same, right?"

"No, that's true," Bobby responded. "It's been the armies of Lucifer versus the armies of Michael all over this planet for the last few decades. But then, _your_ Lucifer shows up. Word is, when he got back to Hell Headquarters, he overpowered _our_ Lucifer somehow, sealed him back into the Pit, and took over.

"From a human perspective, nothin' much changed. Angels still warred with demons, we still caught the fallout of it. Did you know there's a thing called _smiting sickness_? Nasty way to go, as a bystander."

I swallowed hard. Yes, I was familiar with that affliction.

"Now, the angels, they try not to hurt humans. Somethin' about God's plan. But if we happen to be in the way, they don't hold back. They see us as lesser life forms, barely sentient at all. Like steppin' on an ant to them, hurtin' a human."

Gabriel held up a hand. "You seemed surprised to hear my name. Is the Gabriel in this universe important to the war effort? I'd long abandoned either side by the time John Winchester was born."

"Only fer the bounty on your head," Bobby responded, making Gabe's golden eyes go wide. "Both sides have an interest in your whereabouts. They know you're not dead, only hidin', and they think havin' you could sway this stalemate they've fallen into."

Gabriel buried his face in his hands. "Dammit, Lucy," he muttered. "Why do you have to spoil everything?"

Bobby nodded in understanding. "Makes sense, actually. Word that you were alive started comin' down a month or so after he got here."

"So, what do you think, Gabriel?" Sam asked. "Would the you of the past, the one that didn't get talked into picking a side, be swayed by the you of now? One of you will be a huge help, but two of you would be even better."

"I'll have a chat with me later," Gabe said, waving it off. "If I'm still in hiding, I still don't care enough to come down on one side or the other."

"So what's our play, here?" Mary asked. "Go to the angels and ask them to let us join their team? Or go in as Team Human?"

"Team Free Will strikes again," I said. "Even in the world _with_ Winchesters, the angels weren't too interested in our help, except as meat suits. We stuffed Lucifer back into the Pit ourselves, with maximum casualties."

My throat went tight as I remembered the aftermath. Cas exploded, and both Sam and Adam trapped in the Pit with the leaders of both sides. Shit, Adam was _still_ trapped in the Pit. One more choice I'd made.

"I can try to find myself, as well," Castiel spoke up. "The Castiel of this timeline will never have met a Winchester, and so won't have Fallen, but I can remember questioning our Father's plan, long before I ever acted on the feeling. Naomi never managed to take that from me completely."

Bobby looked thoughtful. "'S not a bad idea, actually. The demons possess whoever they want, and leave 'em behind when they're done, and they don't care that we remember everythin' we do while we're not in the driver's seat, so we've got a lot of intel on _their_ operation. Angels, though, play fer keeps."

I pulled my collar aside, exposing my anti-possession tattoo. "Can I assume you're handin' these out like candy on Halloween to anyone passin' through?"

"Bet your ass, kid. The only way humans survive this war is by playin' the long game. If enough of the population is vaccinated, eventually the disease dies out. That's what did it fer smallpox. Your mom has a nice, steady hand, and a better bedside manner than me, so she's taken over that little chore."

I wanted to ask my mother to describe every single human she'd seen in the past year, if anyone else we'd lost was still alive and well here, but the list was too long. Charlie could have strolled in, flirted away while Mom marked her, and strolled back out arm in arm with Kevin and Jo, and Mom wouldn't even have known they were important.

"You said stalemate, earlier," Gabriel said, changing the subject back. "What's the war like, on a day-to-day basis? Is either side showing a dip in numbers? There are a _lot_ of angels, but we're not an infinite resource. Not renewable, either. Present company excepted."

"It got harder to track, once the world wide web went down, but there definitely seem to be fewer battles now than there used to be. In the beginning, there was a battle a day, maybe more. These days, I can go a few weeks without seein' anythin' that ain't pure human, when I even manage to clap eyes on one of _them_."

"Any sign of a showdown between Lucifer and Michael?" asked Sam. "One decisive battle would end it for both sides, and I know that's all Michael really wanted, on our side."

"Maybe it was, once, but we're past that now," Bobby answered. "Pride's been hurt on both sides. No one wants to back down."

"Sounds to me like finding this universe's Castiel and trying to pry angel info out of him is our best first step," said Jack. "He can let the others know what we're up to. Once we know what we're facing, and what might be coming up behind us when we face it, then we can head over to Lucifer's headquarters and I can try to appeal to his better nature."

"Could we not acquire information from any other angelic soldier?" Cas asked.

"Think back to how you were before you met us," I said. "How you didn't object when Uriel called us mud monkeys, except on principle. Would you tell random humans anything, just because they asked nicely? We're not here to torture anyone. Only _you_ have a good chance of convincing _you_ , without resortin' to violence."

Cas mulled that over, then nodded. "You are correct, but I just…"

He trailed off, and Gabriel suddenly grinned. "I get it. You ever look back at old photos, and think, wow, really, I thought _that_ look was a good idea? I bet Cassie has that feeling in spades, but about _all_ of his life choices, not just the mullets and hammer-pants that a human would regret. We all think, _if I could go back, and just_ talk _to the me who thought bedazzled jean jackets were cool_ , _I could talk him out of it_. But with _angels_ , talking them out of it is a very difficult prospect. We've had millennia to wear the ruts into our personalities."

Cas nodded, and glanced sideways at me. "When we met, before I questioned aloud, before I Fell, I was very different. I am not eager to see that me again."

"Dude, yeah, you were a total douche. Or at least, following the orders of one. You really grew on me once you stopped."

"There's another thought," Sam said, as I grabbed Cas's hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. "Should we bother looking for this universe's Chuck? He could stop all of this in a heartbeat, just by showing up."

"The fact that he hasn't, means he doesn't give a shit," I said. "I say forget him. Chuck is what God calls himself on our end of the universe," I told Bobby. "Squirrely little dude, completely apathetic."

Bobby just gaped at me.

"Anyway," I continued. "Cas? Got any ideas for a you-summoning?"

* * *

In the end, it was just Cas, Gabriel, and me who went for a long walk, to summon an angel to somewhere far away from Bobby's Haven.

Jack wanted to come along, but Cas reminded him that he might be considered an abomination, so he and Sam stayed behind to get more info out of Bobby and Mom about the demons' operation.

"If he has not become a casualty of this war, he will most likely still be partnered with Uriel," Castiel said as we walked. "Summoning him without arousing suspicion will be a challenge. I did very little on my own. There was no need."

"I'll handle _him_ , if he shows," said Gabriel. "My secret's going to be out anyway, might as well make myself useful."

"Think this is far enough?" I asked, spreading my arms to indicate the space around me. We were standing on a strip of cracked asphalt, the remains of a highway.

Cas squinted back in the direction of the Haven, calculating. "Yes, this should be fine. The humans are out of range of my senses here, so unless this me has additional abilities, they will be safe."

"So how are we doing this? Angel Radio?"

Cas shook his head. "Angel Radio has been silent since our arrival. It would be safe to assume it has been compromised. Dean, can you pray? It is going to feel strange for him, because he will not have the memory of rebuilding you, but you have my grace inside you. It is a direct, secure line, and he will not be able to resist answering. The only variable is whether or not he tells Uriel what he is doing before he does so."

"Oh. Yeah, no problem. Well, you'll be able to hear everything I pray, so let me know if I get somethin' wrong."

I stepped away and tilted my head back, eyes closing in order to focus inward but was startled out of it by a hand fisting in my shirt and yanking me forward. My eyes popped open, meeting Cas's suddenly blazing ones, and then he was kissing me, fierce and possessive, until Gabriel cleared his throat and he let me go.

"I know what I was like when we met, Dean Winchester," Cas growled. "I know how you changed me. Please remember, this version of Castiel will not have you there to catch him if he Falls. _When_ he Falls. Pity him if you will, but _you_ belong to _me_."

I took a second to calm my pounding heart. _Damn_ , possessive Cas was _hot_.

"You got it, angel. I'll be gentle with him."

I tilted my head back a second time, this time with a grin I couldn't hide. I let the weak sunlight fall on my face, showing pink through my eyelids, and I reached down inside myself to touch the part that was _Cas_.

 _Castiel, Castiel, Angel of Thursday, I pray to you. Please grace me with your presence, I need to speak with you. It is a matter of some urgency._

A strangled sound climbed out of Cas's throat. "Thank you, Dean, that was very compelling."

We waited a few seconds, ears straining and eyes searching in the blowing dust, and then we were rewarded with the flutter of wings and old-school Castiel appeared in front of me, clean-shaven, blank-faced, stiff-postured, tan trenchcoat and all, and I got hit by a steamroller.

This Castiel had never met me, never killed for me, never turned his back on his family, never sought the power of the Leviathans because he thought he had to, never been to Purgatory, never thrown a Molotov cocktail at the Morning Star and called him an ass-butt. He'd been living through about two decades of solid war, but his innocence was almost blinding, compared to the shit I'd dragged my Cas through.

How much less broken would Cas be, if I had allowed myself from the start to treat him how I had always known he deserved to be treated?

 _Focus._ Talk now, angst later.

"Human, this is most irregular. I must inquire how you…"

His graveled voice trailed off.

"What sort of demon's trickery is this?" he asked, staring at Cas with widened eyes. Cas stared back, seemingly fascinated.

"Whoa, there, cowboy," Gabriel said, holding up both hands. "Take a closer look before you go off half-cocked."

Castiel turned to him, and his eyes opened even wider. "Gabriel," he breathed.

Gabe grinned. "Hi, little brother. Been a while."

Castiel turned back to Cas and me. "And you. You both. You contain my grace, though one of you is human. How is this possible?"

"Let's put it like this," Gabriel said, while blue eyes stayed locked with blue. "Is there any word around the angel camps that the Lucifer y'all are fighting now isn't the same Lucifer who kicked off the war? That the current Lucifer is from _somewhere else_?"

Castiel nodded. "Rumors, mostly. Demons lie, but why would they lie about something so absurd, unless there was a shred of truth in it?"

Cas spoke up. "More than a shred. We are also from _somewhere else._ We have come to assist with the problem."

Castiel cocked his head ( _not yours, not yours, stop thinking about him that way,_ I chanted to myself), then reached a hand out and prodded Cas in the chest, testing his solidity. "Then, you are me, from _somewhere else_? Where did our paths diverge?"

For Chuck's sake, the difference was _staggering_. If _my_ Cas had been dropped into a reverse of this situation, his first reaction would have been intense suspicion, not this childlike curiosity.

"In our universe," Cas began, "the Winchester Prophecy was fulfilled, but war was averted through the brave actions of several humans. In yours, it seems that the Prophecy was forestalled. Someone made certain that it would never come to pass, and in doing so, caused the war anyway."

Castiel's eyes strayed toward me, then snapped back to Cas, then strayed again.

Cas continued. "I was honored with the assignment of retrieving the Righteous Man. I healed him, then gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition."

 _Fuck, Cas._ That one always got me, that line delivered with Cas's peculiar intensity. _Keep it to yourself, Winchester_ , I chastised myself as Cas shot me a warning glare and Castiel jerked as if slapped. _You'll spook the natives_.

Castiel abandoned any pretense of _not_ staring at me. "And this is he? Our grace is knit through him." His eyes went soft with wonder. "His soul…"

"This is Dean Winchester," Cas said, allowing only a hint of irritation to seep into his tone. "A great hero where we come from, though he will never admit it to anyone, even to himself."

Dragging himself away from whatever it was that Castiels of any stripe found so goddamn fascinating about my soul, this universe's Castiel nodded, re-focused, and asked the million-dollar question. "Where is it that you come from? You and the Lucifer we are battling? How did you get here?"

Cas faltered for the first time, and I realized he didn't want to tell this Castiel how he'd been living his life. No judgment hurts worse than your own.

Gabriel swept in, trying to breeze past how alarming his news would sound. "Lucifer was locked away, as our Castiel said, but a little while ago he managed to escape again. While at large, he knocked up a human female."

Castiel recoiled, but I remembered Lily Sunder's tragic tale, and Isham's cruelty, and Castiel's reluctance.

"While still in the human female's womb," Cas spoke back up, "the nephilim opened a gateway from our world to this one. Lucifer was driven through, to keep him from bonding with his child. Together, their power would have been used to destroy all of our Father's creations. I tried to stop him myself, but I was insufficient."

I caught the hint of a flinch on Castiel's face when Cas mentioned their father.

"What of the other angels? Surely, without this unending war, their ranks are strong enough together to defeat Lucifer?"

Cas's wings weren't visible at the moment, but I thought I could see them droop, anyway. "There are many differences between this world and ours. Much has happened. There was a war, but not against the demons. Suffice it to say, our ranks are not what they once were. Those that remained were easily cowed by Lucifer. If not for Dean Winchester and his family, he would have succeeded, and our world would be ashes."

"Like this one, you mean to say?"

Cas looked startled at the bitterness in Castiel's tone, but then his face showed a quiet understanding. After all, he remembered being this version of himself, having questions but no one to ask, having doubts but no safe way to reassure himself about them, longing for a Father he'd never seen.

"Like this one, but worse. Here, there are still those who would stand against Lucifer. If he rose to power on our Earth, only the humans would oppose him, and though they have many unexpected strengths, they would ultimately fail."

"And so, you have come to reunite Lucifer with his son? Are you _trying_ to unmake this world?"

In all the times I'd managed to piss Cas off in the past, I'd never seen him actually _mad_ before. Castiel was truly impressive, storm clouds churning and lightning flashing in his eyes. Maybe there was something about Cas being here, sharing his feelings, that was opening him up in a way he would not dare show anyone else. Angels weren't supposed to have emotions, after all.

Cas was unmoved by the display. "The nephilim, whose name is Jack, was raised by Dean and his family, taught humility and the value of life. I received a vision, one I still believe in, that Jack will bring peace to the land. At the time, I believed it was of our Earth, but now I know he is meant to save yours, instead."

"Show me," Castiel demanded, holding his arms out to his sides.

Cas's eyebrows went up, but he nodded, stepped forward, and pressed two fingers to Castiel's forehead. Both sets of blue eyes slid closed.

A half-minute passed. Tears began to leak down Castiel's cheeks. When Cas stepped away, he reached a hand up, touched the moisture in wonderment. "You. You _feel_ so much. How do you live like that?"

Then Castiel's face froze. "You _Fell_ ," he accused. "Did you not?"

Cas gave a careless shrug, and the gesture was like looking in a mirror. I was really rubbing off on the guy. "Several times, in fact. I have done worse, as well, in the eyes of our brothers, but Father approved of my deeds."

"Fa-" Castiel got one syllable out, then halted. I could see the questions crowding his throat, jamming up in their hurry to emerge first.

"Yes, he still lives, but meeting him answered none of the questions we wanted to ask," Cas said. "I am sorry to tell you this, but you have to find answers within yourself. And perhaps with a human named Anna Milton, if you can locate her on this bleak planet, and help return her to herself."

 _Whoa, there, Cas_. Anna had nudged Cas along on his journey towards his Fall, and he was sending this version of himself straight back down that path.

"I knew your rebellious streak would come back to bite you one day, Cassie," Gabriel said cheerily.

Castiel spun to him. "So that means _you_ … you are not _my_ Gabriel."

"Close enough, little brother. What's a few human decades of difference, compared to the millennia we've been through together? I still remember teaching you to fly, scrawny fledgling that you were. Don't worry, I'll be having words with myself, as well. I haven't grown a conscience, I'm just _that_ narcissistic."

"But why summon me?" Castiel broke off and turned back to me, catching me up in his gaze. "What do you think that I can do for you that you cannot do for yourselves with the assistance of your Jack?"

"Castiel," I told him, the full name unfamiliar on my tongue, "you're breakin' my heart." And it was true. Though, in a way, it was a relief to find out that his self esteem problems had begun long before my interference. I hadn't _helped_ , true, but they weren't my _fault_ , either.

"We are capable of a great many things," Cas told him. "Many of which you cannot even dream of at this point, and some of which you will wish you never had."

"And Jack's not omnipotent. We just need to know what we're up against, and if the angels would be willin' to offer any support. I doubt Lucifer will just let us stroll through the front door and have a tea party with him."

"You bring him his _son_. This Jack must be his hope for redemption, a chance to treat a child the way he wished Father would have treated him! How could he refuse you?"

"Refuse _us_? Easily. We've pissed that dude off way too many times for him to let it slide. And I'm not lettin' Jack go in there on his own, so _us_ is what he'll get."

"But what is your end goal? Do you wish to destroy Lucifer? Or abandon him here? Or take him back to your Earth with you, while he pretends that he will behave?"

"That's up to Jack. Jack knows him inside and out, knows what he's capable of. If Jack is convinced that showing him mercy is the best option, I'll listen to him. I won't be _happy_ about it, but I'll listen."

Gabriel cleared his throat again, and I blinked and took step back, putting some distance between me and those innocent blue eyes, which had been far too close. Cas was looking a bit steamed, so I offered him a sidelong grin. "See what I've been trying to tell you for a decade about why personal space is important?"

Castiel looked mildly mortified. "I apologize, I am not accustomed to interacting with humans. Did I do something wrong?"

"You have done nothing wrong," Cas bit out. " _He_ , however, should know better by now."

"Cas, are you… are you _pouting?_ "

I wanted to burst out laughing. This whole situation was completely absurd. He hadn't mentioned beforehand whether or not he wanted this universe's Castiel to know how _involved_ he was with a human, so I couldn't exactly comfort him.

I refocused on the situation in time to see Castiel mouth the syllable _Cas_ to himself in quiet wonderment. He studied me and Cas for a second, gaze bouncing off the sapphire on my ring, then opened his mouth.

" _None_ of that has any bearing on our purpose here," Cas jumped in, forestalling him. "If I may ask, is Uriel still in our garrison?"

Thrown by the change in topic, Castiel nodded.

"Is he aware that you are missing?"

Finally, _finally_ , a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, a slight tightening of his jaw and a tenseness in his shoulders, a flexing of the fingers of his right hand where his angel blade would appear. If we'd meant him harm, we'd have gotten away with it clean before he'd noticed a goddamn thing.

"I only mean," Cas said placatingly, "how much longer do we have to speak before he suspects something is out of the ordinary? It is not our aim to get you into trouble with that… that…"

He broke off, clenched and unclenched a fist, then stared at his hands for a minute, no doubt replaying the fight he'd had with Uriel when the other angel had revealed to him that he was working to free Lucifer. With Lucifer walking the earth here, was any of that still true?

Cas looked back up at Castiel. "I do not know if he will be driven to such desperate acts here as he was on our world, but please, for your sake and the sake of Heaven and the Host, do not trust him. He has lost his faith in our Father, and I believe it has broken him, though he hides it well."

Castiel stared at him, wide-eyed, suspicions forgotten.

"In that case," said Gabriel, clapping a hand on Castiel's shoulder, making him jump, "you'd better head back. Make a full report to Michael, will you? Contact us when you've got something to share, or even if you don't. We still need to know, ya know?"

"How…?"

Gabriel made an expansive gesture in my direction. "Figure it out. The humans have their wardings down to a science, but there are always cracks to be slipped through, when you've got a connection that runs as deep as yours. Sorry," he said, turning to Cas. "I mean, _yours_. Same difference, right?"

Cas practically growled at him, while Castiel opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

"Go on, little brother, shoo. I've got my own double to locate."

Castiel blinked, gave each of us a last searching look, and then nodded and vanished in a flutter of tan canvas.

Gabriel glanced between me and Cas, caught the way Cas was staring determinedly off into the swirling haze, and said, "Well, this has been fun, but I have to go have a chat with the coolest dude on the planet, and I don't need you two losers cramping my style. I'll catch up with you later."

And then he, too, was gone between one blink and the next, since Castiel had proven that there weren't any anti-flying traps criss-crossing the ether here.

"Cas?" I asked. No response. "I'm sorry." Sheesh, I'd only had the guy back three days, and I was already hurting him again. Maybe he had been better off in the Lady's realm after all.

"Why are you apologizing?" he said, still not looking at me.

He didn't use the ' _there's nothing to be sorry for'_ tone that was sometimes used for that statement. It was more like, _which particular item in your extensive litany of reprehensible behaviors are you referring to?_

"I let him get too close. I remember how you used to be, how _we_ used to be, but he's not you." Memories of Cas being too close, of me recoiling in hurtful aversion because I couldn't handle what he was offering me, curdled in my mind's eye.

"You've been through so much, made so many choices that this version will never have to make. I just don't want you to think that I'd _ever_ trade in what we've been through together, no matter how many times we've hurt each other. It's just, seeing him, he's so… so…"

I couldn't think of a word that didn't imply that my Cas was somehow _less_ because of what he'd had to do. Because of me.

"Innocent?" Cas supplied, one corner of his mouth turning up. He still wouldn't look at me, but it was a start.

My shoulders sagged. " _Chuck_ , yes. _So_ innocent. I'm s-"

He spun to me then and held two fingers across my lips. "Dean Winchester, if you blame yourself one more time for my choices, Father help me, I shall smite you. Seeing this version of me, yes, it is true, he does not have to live with the things that I do, but he does remind me that so many of my choices were never really choices at all."

His hand dropped back to his side. "I was always going to Fall one day. It is the way I was created. This version will, too, it is only a matter of time. With your assistance, I managed to do so in spectacular fashion, and you gave me a purpose afterward. Many of my kind are not so blessed."

"Is that why you pointed him at Anna?"

His chapped lips turned up again. "There is no Dean Winchester in this universe, but I refuse to let him doubt alone. They can help each other. After all," he reached out and took my hand, and sweet relief spread through my veins like a drug, "I have been fortunate, and can afford to be generous."

"I'm still sorry for letting him get so close."

"Jealousy is an irrational emotion, especially between you and I, and even more so when it is concerning a third party that is me as well. How can I be jealous of myself?" His cheeks turned pink, but his gaze was steady. "I was, though. It burned in my stomach. The closer you allowed him, the hotter it burned. I wanted to grab you, pull you away, declare to him that you were _mine_ , even though he has no concept of what that means, and would not know what to do if you were to offer it to him."

I pressed the back of his hand, still clasped in mine, to my cheek. It felt cool and soothing. "You love me," I said, giving him a goofy grin.

"Father help me, it is true," he said, grinning back. "And I wouldn't even know the true meaning of that phrase if not for you."

"I love you, too, you know," I said, the words coming easier and easier every time I said them.

"I have been aware of that for some time, but I doubt I will ever grow tired of hearing you say it out loud."

We insinuated ourselves into each other's personal space, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces, and we exchanged long, slow kisses that, had they continued perpetually, I would have decided I'd died, been forgiven, and was in my own personal Heaven.

Cas seemed to have other ideas. He let a hand roam beneath the hem of my t-shirt, calloused fingers grazing the skin at the small of my back, carefully avoiding the handle of my gun. Goosebumps spread away from his touch, and I shivered in his arms, pressing us even closer together.

My eyes had slid closed, but they popped open again when I felt the swoop in my stomach that told me we'd fast-traveled. We were standing in another devastated scene, lit by a weak sun through the swirling haze.

"Cas, where are we? Where are we going?"

There was another tug as my stomach was left behind, then caught up to me, and we were in what had once been an open field, now scored with burn marks and clouded with ashes.

"We," growled Cas, jumping us again, this time to a cracked street in a deserted city, "are going to find some place on this benighted planet," jump to a mountainside that had erupted in the recent past, brittle pumice shattering under our shoes, "that is private, soft, and _horizontal_ ," another jump, and dirty gray waves crashed on a rocky shore, "and we are going to _make use of it_."

One more jump, and Cas's wings took our weight as we dangled over a muddy, rushing river that stretched almost as far as the eye could see in all directions, banks barely visible in the distance. He let out a frustrated growl and jumped us again, this one feeling like it was farther than the last.

"Ah," he said, his grip slackening now that our feet were back on solid ground. "Good. I used to come here a lot in the past, to think and be alone. I hope the other me is too busy to remember it for a while."

"And where is _here_?"

A glance around revealed an island in the middle of the ocean. The haze was weaker here, and the sun managed to make the crystal blue sea sparkle a bit as it rushed over the flats of a coral cay. We were standing on a sandy shore, and there were some trees and scrub inland of us, through which I could see the ocean again. I estimated it wouldn't take more than a half-hour to walk around the entire place.

The trees, and the cloud of small birds that danced among them, were the first living things I'd seen of this world that were not actually Bobby Singer.

"Welcome to Oeno Island, Dean Winchester," he said, and that sneaky sonofabitch magicked my shirt right off.

* * *

We turned back up at the Haven a little over an hour later, none the worse for wear, thanks to angelic cleanup powers. Cas's hand in mine felt like everything I'd ever need for the rest of my life.

Sam took one look at my face and rolled his eyes. "Dude, we're gearing up to battle Lucifer, _again_ , and you can't keep it in your pants for more than an hour on end?"

I shrugged, unperturbed. "What can I say, Sammy? You know I dig twins."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "You absolutely did _not_. Dean-"

"No, he did not. The delay was my fault, and I apologize." Cas squeezed my hand. The line of his shoulders was more relaxed than it had been since our arrival. I liked it. It made me want to bite them a few more times, but that would have to wait.

Sam looked like he wanted to argue further, but he caught sight of the bruise that my shirt collar came _just_ short of hiding and decided that he didn't need any more information. After my slip-up with his double, Cas had seemed determined to mark me for his own. No complaints, here.

Mom was glowing at us, but she didn't comment.

"What did you find out? Where's Gabriel?" asked Jack.

"This world's Castiel is gonna make a report to Michael, and he'll let us know what their plan will be," I said. "And Gabriel said he was going to talk to himself."

Bobby peeled off the wall where he'd been leaning. "Both sides have been lookin' fer that holdout for a year now, no one's found him yet. If he's still alive, he's hidden real deep."

I shrugged. "Who knows him better? I can picture it: him strollin' in to whatever sweet man-cave this Gabe has cooked up for himself, this Gabe tellin' him he's never told anyone about this place, our Gabe saying, _yes we did, we told Arabella, that nice waitress out in Portland that one time thirty years ago, and by the way_ , _I'm_ you."

"Chuck help us all, _two_ of them," Sam groaned.

"Yeah, and I'll bet ours can't wait to introduce this one to the fine and artful sport of _Sam-Torture_. He seems to enjoy it a little too much."

"Don't spoil it, Dean-o," Gabriel drawled, ducking under the lintel at the entryway. "It's less fun when he's aware of what I'm doing."

"So?" asked Sam. "What's the verdict on this world's version of you?"

"Cool dude," said Gabriel, shrugging and sinking onto the bench beside the table. "I tried to give him the stirring pep talk that you guys used to convince _me_ , right before it got me _killed_ , but he wasn't buying it. He said he'd keep an eye on the situation and jump in if it looked like he was needed, but he figured one of us would be enough, wished me luck, and invited me back to hang out when it was all over."

"Sounds about right, coming from a you that hasn't been exposed to Winchesters," I told him.

"Y'all sure do make it hard to remain a disinterested party. What's the story on the demon side of things?"

"Mom interrogated a demon a few weeks ago," Sam said. "She's been waiting for us to come back, and wanted to have up-to-date info when we did, so we've got a pretty good idea of current layout and security at Lucifer's lair. One main problem: it's not going to be easy to get in without damaging the guards. No matter who's wearing them, the bodies themselves are innocent."

"Say what you will about the British Men of Letters," Mom said, "but they did have the best toys. They had mass-exorcism _hand grenades_."

Jack raised a hand. "Everyone here vetoed my suggestion, but I want to know what you guys think."

I was pretty sure I already knew what he was going to suggest, and that I wasn't going to like it either, but saying _absolutely not_ before even hearing him out was just plain bad parenting. I gave him a go-ahead nod.

"I go outside, far enough from the Haven so that I don't draw any unwanted attention here, and I take the amulet off. My father hears me, he shows up. Easy."

Yep, that's what I'd thought he was going to say.

"Him, and every angel in the regiment," said Sam, "along with whatever honor guard Lucifer brings with him. And then suddenly we're all in the middle of a celestial battlefield."

Jack opened his mouth, ready to jump back into an argument that had probably lasted for most of the time we'd been gone, but Cas jumped in first.

"Sam, your objections have merit, but Jack's idea is a good one."

Sam gaped at him, but Gabriel was nodding as Cas continued.

"We will need to wait for this world's Castiel to report back, to know how the angels will react to the revelation of Jack's existence, but if they agree to stay uninvolved, it is my belief that Lucifer will come alone. Which is not to say he will be any easier to defeat than he has been all the other times we have gone up against him, but I am sure that Jack has some ideas for that as well."

Jack gave him a grateful nod. I was horrified at the very idea, but not horrified enough to let go of Cas's hand. If anything, I squeezed harder.

Cas glanced at me. "Dean, what do you think?"

I frowned. "I don't like the idea, but Jack's supposed to bring peace and happiness to the entire planet. Us stabbin' a bunch of the New Utopians while they're possessed won't win him any points in that column."

Turning to Bobby, I said, "Big-picture it for me. You said there was a war on, angels versus demons. Who broke the seals and opened the Hellgate, and has it been closed again? No point in exorcising anyone if they're just gonna walk right back out."

"Don't rightly know who opened it, but I closed it m'self after some roughhousin' with the D-list night crew," Bobby said, a bit smugly. "Even got the key, too, so nobody's openin' it again on my watch."

"The k- You have the _Colt_?" Sam yelped.

"Have one on your side, too, do ya?"

"We did," I said, "up until Dagon, Prince of Hell, melted it a few days before Jack was born. Felt like losin' a member of the damn family."

Bobby gave a grave nod. "I've heard the legends, that it and its special ammo can kill anythin', but it didn't come with any bullets, so it's basically useless fer anything except re-openin' the Hellgate. I've been thinkin' of destroyin' it."

Mom looked stunned. "You've had the Colt _here_ , this _whole_ time, and you didn't _mention_ it?"

"No bullets, didn't seem relevant."

"We can make _more_ ," she hissed. "The Bobby Singer from our Earth figured out the formula. I watched Sam take out the Alpha Vampire with it."

Bobby's mouth fell open in a way that told me he'd crossed paths with the Alpha Vamp before.

"Almost didn't believe that slick sumbitch _could_ die," he muttered.

"From the look on his face when I put a bullet between his eyes, _he_ didn't believe it either," said Sam. "Speaking of things the Colt can kill," he turned to Cas, "what makes you so sure Lucifer will come alone?"

Cas took in a breath, but it was Mom who spoke. "Children are weak points. Your pal Crowley proved that there's always someone waiting to stab the King of Hell in the back if they can just find an opening for it. Nothing says _kick me_ like your own kid, and he wouldn't want to give any ambitious underlings such an advantage."

She took in the wounded looks Sam and I were giving her, but grinned instead of looking remorseful. "What? I didn't say I shared his opinion. Hell, I'm so proud of you boys, I've been telling your story to everyone who'll sit still long enough."

Bobby grinned crookedly, the first sign of pleasure I'd seen on his weathered face since we'd arrived. "Ain't that the truth. And since she took over handin' out the anti-possession tattoos, that's basically everyone walkin' this section of what used to be the United States."

Sam gave her a suspicious squint. "You didn't mention anything about not exactly being from this version of reality or anything like that, did you?"

Mom laughed and waved a hand. "Of course not! I'm a proud mother, not an idiot. Why paint a target on my own back?"

"Mary is correct," Castiel said, "though she did not grasp one aspect of Lucifer's personality."

"Tell a lady what she missed," said Mom, still grinning.

"Big Brother's the worst kind of racist," chimed in Gabriel from where he was slumped against Sam at the table. "He hates humans, because he thinks our Father loves you better than us, but he hates demons even more. Sure, he's in charge down there, but they're just tools to him. He doesn't think they're fit to lick a _human's_ boots, much less his own."

Cas let go of my hand with a final squeeze and moved to stand in front of Jack. "Your surmise that he loves you as he has never loved any creature save himself is a valid one. He will not wish to sully your reunion with the presence of demons."

Turning, he faced the room at large. "There is much I never told you about the war in Heaven back in our universe, but I will admit now that there are some who agree with him. As a species, angels need order, rules to follow, something to believe in. When our Father disappeared, we kept faith in him as best we could, but when that faith waned, there were many who followed Lucifer's path.

"It was probably them, one alone or a like-minded group, who broke the seals and unlocked the Hellgate in this universe. _They_ will present the main challenge in ending this war, not the demons. I have passed along one name that I am certain of to this world's Castiel, and I can only hope he is not too innocent to know what to do with it. I fear I have put him in grave danger."

He stood in the middle of the small room, looking a little lost as everyone took in what he'd said. Gabriel looked stunned as well; after all, he'd been dead for a while and had missed a lot. Cas pulled at me like a magnet, and I found myself by his side, lacing my fingers back into his without consciously deciding to do so. He gave me a grateful smile.

"So we wait," said Sam, slumping back onto the bench.

"Bobby Singer," said Cas suddenly, startling the man out of a bleak contemplation. "Is your Haven adequately provided with provisions for such a large party? We encountered a place well-stocked with fish during our travels earlier, and I would be happy to retrieve some, if you would like fresh meat."

Bobby's mood underwent a series of rapid shifts, first surprise around the eyes, then a stubborn set to his jaw that spoke of refusal, then a hesitancy betrayed by his shoulders, and then, finally, his tongue darted out and licked his lips.

"Damn, I haven't had a good fish fry in years. Yeah, I'll take you up on that offer, though I thought I'd be planted in this blasted earth long before I ever heard a flyboy say he'd be _happy_ to do anythin' fer a human."

His gaze tracked down to our joined hands, then up to my face. "You, kid. Dean. You say the other me had the raisin' of you boys back on your earth?"

I straightened my back, squaring my shoulders. "Yes, sir."

"Then you'd better be able to tell a food fish from a crappy one. Yeah?"

I grinned. "Yes, sir," I repeated.

"Go with this one and tell him what to throw back. I know flyboys don't have tastebuds worth a damn. I'll get everythin' ready here, so I expect you back in two hours, tops. I'll preserve whatever we don't eat tonight, so bring back plenty."

I nodded, and we were halfway to the door when he added, "And I want them fresh, so whatever canoodling you-all are plannin', get it out of the way first."

My whole face went hot, and Cas had to drag me out, stumbling a bit, to the sound of Sam and Gabriel howling with laughter.

* * *

When we reached his private island again, Cas was surprisingly on board with the canoodling idea, once I'd explained what the word meant. I assured him that we'd canoodled plenty earlier, and that I wasn't a randy teenager any more, that I wanted him for more than just his body, and that maybe we could just watch what was shaping up to be a lovely sunset.

He assured _me_ that statements like that weren't likely to decrease his interest in canoodling, so we canoodled to the sunset instead of watching it, the rosy light turning his eyes a fetching lilac whenever he happened to open them.

Then he cleaned us up, and I indulged in a bit of shipwreck fantasy, gathering coconuts in the waning light while he magicked silvery smelt onto a palm frond on the strand like we were the last two people in the world. I kept half an eye on him; I know, I know, incredibly powerful being, but all that power packed into a tiny human body made him very dense, and if he went under, I planned on being there in a flash to haul him back out, whether he needed to breathe or not.

Two thoughts occurred to me as I started trying to weave a crude basket out of some dried seagrass, and I couldn't seem to shake them. He was wading back up out of the water, and I had no idea how to bring up either thing without possibly causing offense.

He caught my frown as he took the half-made basket and started fixing it up with deft fingers. "What is wrong? And do not say _nothing_. That no longer works on me."

That surprised a chuckle out of me. "Alright, you win. I'll start with the easy one. You said the gift from your lady was empathy."

He nodded, hands pausing so that he could give me his full attention.

"Earlier, when I said I'd be happy enough just to sit beside you while we watched the sunset, and you asked for a more … _physical_ activity. That seems like a step beyond plain empathy. Not that I'm complainin', mind you."

The haze in the sky was thin enough for the first stars to peek through, and I saw his cheeks color by their faint light.

"My lady's gift seems to be more thorough than I originally believed. It appears that _I_ am the one who now falls into the _randy teenager_ category. Is that … is that alright?" He gave me an almost shy look through thick lashes.

"Cas, honey, it's more than alright with me. Are you sure it's alright with you, though? Is this what you want, to be so … human?"

"Your head is big enough, Dean Winchester, without me swelling it further with praise. Suffice to say, I am not displeased with our physical interactions thus far. What is the other thing you were thinking about, that you are reluctant to discuss?"

He started to weave the basket again, but I laid a hand over his.

"I hate to even suggest this, and if you tell me it's not possible, then I swear I will believe you and never mention it again, but…"

There were stars in his eyes, tiny pinpricks of silver light reflecting in his irises as they stared at me, unblinking, his face as still as his hands.

"Do you think that you, in the absence of Team Free Will, in the absence of all hope of a better future, faced with unending war, you might have … been more … well, _receptive_ to Uriel's offer?"

Those starry eyes got even wider.

I hastily continued, "You know I'm a suspicious bastard, it's the main reason I've lived this long. I'd think it of anyone. I know you wouldn't, _you_ wouldn't, but what if …?"

I was afraid he'd be mad, but my angel took my paranoia with utter seriousness. He worked on the basket a few minutes, thinking it over, and then finally shook his head.

"I was made to be curious, not destructive. Everyone I have hurt, or who has been hurt on my behalf – I remember all of their faces. When my faith falters, I search for my Father, for answers, rather than glorying in nihilism and ruin. It is a lonely path, and a painful one, but Lucifer's path of destruction … it is not for me."

He looked up from the basket, meeting my eyes once more. "The things Naomi took from me return slowly, and some may never return at all, but I am certain I have made this choice many times."

I nodded in acceptance, but was startled to see a small grin turn his lips up.

"But, could you imagine Lucifer's face? He locks this world's version of himself back into the Pit, and greets his loyal angelic lieutenants, only to see my face among them?"

I snorted. "That would rattle him for sure. I bet he'd gape like a fish."

"And my poor self would be so confused!"

We were practically giggling at this point, picturing it. I'd never heard him do that before. It was a beautiful sound.

"Cas, did you just pose a hypothetical to make a joke?"

He shrugged, still trying to get himself back under control.

"Your lady continues to impress," I told him. His happy face was irresistible, and I pulled him in, tucking his face into my neck and feeling his frame shake with laughter. Maybe this was Heaven, after all.

He stilled, and I reluctantly let him pull away. There was a grave seriousness in his face that hadn't been there a second ago.

"Now _you_ tell _me_ what's wrong," I said, cupping a hand to his cheek.

"Dean, I do not know what to do with … all of this. Everything I am … _feeling_ is completely new and alien to me. The only reason I am not terrified is that I know you will not abandon me to deal with it alone. So no matter what happens with Lucifer, you _must not die_. Do you understand?"

"Hey, hey, of course," I said, trying to be soothing. Not my forte, but I gave it my best effort. "Like you or Jack would let that happen. Like _I'd_ let that happen. We're gettin' out of here together, and then we're all goin' to Disneyland. Does your shift toward humanity include taste buds? I hear good things about the churros there."

I stopped, suddenly concerned. "You're not losing your mojo again, are you? Should I start throwing myself between you and projectile weapons?"

He gave me a calm smile. "I have never felt better, or stronger, or happier, in my entire existence. And I think I would like to taste what Bobby Singer termed a ' _fish fry_.' It sounds fascinating."

* * *

Alistair laughed, the sound incongruously warm and friendly as he ripped at my flesh with various spiky implements. A tiny part of my brain was trying to tell me _this is a nightmare_ , but it was being drowned out by the screams and the pain, the thirst and fatigue and shame and guilt.

Time stretched, just as it always had in Hell, and though the tiny sane part of my brain was now yelling _Cas will get you out in just a few seconds_ , it still felt like decades. He ripped into me, let it heal, ripped again, and I knew I was reaching the point where I'd break and accept his terrible bargain, because tonight was one of _those_ nightmares.

He left me alone to heal, and I lay stretched on the rack, panting, bleeding, sobbing. When he returned, I would agree, and it would shatter me all the way through.

And then Cas was there, his grip burning into my shoulder as he pulled me off the table, breaking my chains and making me whole again. Hell disappeared around us, and Oeno Island materialized.

"I assume you would prefer a change in scenery?" he rasped.

When I was sure I could take the two steps he'd left between us without keeling over, I threw myself at him, meshing my lips with his and gripping his coat with both hands.

I pulled back long enough to murmur an emphatic _thank you_ to wide blue eyes before diving in again, letting the grace he'd used to glue together my broken pieces wake and glow, resonating.

This lasted for all of a second, and then I jerked like a dog wearing a shock collar, eyes flying open, and I stumbled backward a few feet. _Shit_ , I probably should just go ahead and buy that shock collar right now. Apparently, I needed one.

"Fuck! Shit, I'm so sorry! I thought you were . . ."

The angel in front of me was prodding at his swollen lips with curious fingers, but he looked up with eyes like lasers when I failed to complete my sentence. "You believed I was ' _your_ _Cas'_?"

 _Christ_ , he even did the finger quotes like Cas once had, the gesture made with his entire upper body, and it made my heart ache.

"Yes. I am so sorry, this never should have happened. It's just, he's usually the one that keeps the bad dreams away. I wasn't expecting- Wait." His finger quotes had encompassed the possessive as well as the nickname. "He's not _my_ Cas, like, he doesn't _belong_ to me or anything."

Castiel raised both eyebrows. "Does he not?" He glanced around. "He brought you here. I have never shown this place to anyone, not even Gabriel."

I shrugged, giving in. "Alright, he belongs to me. To be fair, I belong to him as well. I'm not lookin' forward to telling him about my fuck-up here. I've hurt him enough."

Castiel's mouth twitched up at the corners. "If it will save him from pain, I would be willing to forego speaking of this incident in the future."

I stared at him. He'd just offered me an ' _I won't tell if you won't_ ' out. Maybe this version was closer to Falling than any of us thought.

Shaking my head, I said, "No way. Bad shit always happens when he and I lie to each other. We're tryin' to kick the habit. But thanks for the offer, I appreciate it."

"Why does he dislike me?"

"What?" That had come outta nowhere. "He doesn't dislike you, why would he dislike himself?"

I cut that line off, since I was pretty sure there was a truckload of stuff Cas disliked about himself – though I aimed to change all that, given enough time – and tried a different tack. "I mean-"

"It is disconcerting, to look upon the face of my own vessel, and see such disapproval."

"Disapproval? No, that's not-"

"What would he have me do differently? I am only a foot soldier."

I crossed my arms across my chest, in an effort to keep from giving in to the deeply-ingrained reflex to grip him by the shoulders and shake him. " _That's_ definitely not true, and I think you know it."

He was opening his mouth to object further, but my statement seemed to have startled him, and I took the opportunity to jump in before he could start again.

"He doesn't disapprove of you. If anything, he's … I don't know, _wistful_? He's been through so much shit, all the ups and downs of the world's worst roller coaster, and the life he's living now is so far from where you are, or where you parted ways, that he can't even," I waved my hands around, grasping at my limited vocabulary, "… _conceive_ of your _worldview_ any more.

"I don't think he regrets anything, in the long run, but even with your decades of constant battle, I think he misses how straightforward everything used to be for him."

A thoughtful look dawned on Castiel's face, and I congratulated myself for choosing _straightforward_ rather than _simple_.

"Why are we even talkin' about this? You're here to tell me about Michael, right? And how we're all gonna stop the war?"

He blinked his baby blues at me, and I stamped hard on the urge to take it back, to talk to him forever about nothing. _Not this one_ , I told myself. _This one doesn't know you at all_.

"Would you not do the same, if you were put in my position?" he asked. "This is a rare opportunity to see the outcome of a decision I have not yet made. I must learn all that I can from both of you, in the time I have been given."

"Speaking of _time_ ," I said, glancing around at the gently waving seagrass. "Cas always knows when I have a nightmare, and he always comes for me. Why hasn't he?"

"I slowed down time within your mind," he said. "I am aware that humans need to sleep during the night to function properly, so I did not want to take up more of your allotted hours than needed."

I grinned at him. "That's not going to fly, smart guy. You can't fool yourself for long. Talk fast."

He shot the sky an uncertain look, then said, "Michael has requested a meeting with the nephilim, at a location and time of your choosing. Set up your wards that prevent detection, and then call me as you did yesterday. I will bring him to meet you."

"Is it invitation only, or can anyone crash the party?"

He tilted his head at me. "You speak in euphemisms. Are you implying that this meeting will be enjoyable? Because I do not believe that to be true."

His earnestness was nostalgically familiar. "I just meant, he wants to meet with Jack, and I need to be there to let you know where we end up, but what about my brother? And Gabriel?"

His gaze shifted. On anyone else, it would have looked almost _guilty_. "I may have … neglected to include your universe's Gabriel in my report." He saw my mouth open, and hurried to forestall my comment. "I cannot guarantee his presence, so there did not seem any benefit from mentioning him."

I closed my mouth, then nodded in agreement. Gabe would do whatever the hell he wanted anyway.

"Pretty slick, kid. Cas would be proud."

He lit up, glowing faintly beneath his roughened skin, and blinded me with a sudden smile. He was opening his mouth to respond when my name rang across the tiny island like a faraway bell.

" _Dean!"_

"That's my cue," I said, grinning again. "I'll give you a call when we're all set up. I'm sorry again about the whole kissing thing."

"I am not."

And then there was blackness.

* * *

When my eyes opened a beat later, Cas's concerned face hovered above me, blocking the rough stone ceiling of the bunk room that Bobby had put us up in. His cool hand cupped my cheek.

"Dean! Are you alright? I felt you having a nightmare, but I couldn't reach you."

I reached up and tangled my fingers into his hair, tugging him downwards. He melted against me in that delicious way I was never going to stop enjoying, exactly the way his local counterpart had not, which is what had tipped me off earlier.

A scoff that I knew without looking was accompanied by an eye-roll brought me back down with a thud, and I remembered that Sam and Gabriel had been assigned the next bunk over. Or, more accurately, Sam and Jack and I were sharing a room, and two beings who didn't need to sleep were choosing to share our space while we fragile mortals recharged.

I pulled back with extreme reluctance, turning my head so I could see the rest of the room. "Michael wants a meeting."

Cas straightened up, to my regret, and the book Sam'd been reading while sitting up in bed dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Even Gabriel put aside Sam's phone, which he'd been using to play Angry Birds, though he looked resigned instead of surprised. There was no service here, not to mention outlets, but he'd said he'd charge it himself, so Sam had shrugged and handed over what was, on this world, essentially a very expensive brick.

"Castiel reported back in," I told them, propping myself up on my elbows. "He said we could set up Jack's wards and give him a call, and he'd bring the top dog."

"Is he requesting we send Jack in alone?" Sam asked.

I shook my head. "Doesn't sound like it. I don't think he sees us as much of a threat, so he probably couldn't care less if we brought a whole _army_ of humans, s'long as Jack's there. And our Cas, probably, for proof."

"I suppose my presence is required as well?" Gabriel said. He didn't sound terribly excited at the prospect.

"Actually, Castiel seems to have left you out of the story entirely. Sounded like he didn't want to get into hot water by promising you'd be there when he's got no way to make it actually happen."

Gabriel leapt out of his chair with a whoop of laughter, grabbing Cas up and swinging him in as big a circle as both their disparate heights and the limited space would allow. "I _knew_ you were my favorite little brother for a reason," he said, beaming.

"Sam?" I said, noticing the weird look on his face. "What's the problem?"

Gabriel, to his credit, put his brother down immediately and focused on mine.

"What if he notices?" Sam said in a small voice.

I made a _go on_ gesture with both hands. "Notices what, exactly?"

"That I'm an abomination. I drank demon blood. I said yes to _Lucifer_ , for Chuck's sake!"

We all stared at him, unsure how to respond. Cas had also said yes, but that probably wasn't what Sam wanted to hear.

Luckily, the door opened and Jack stuck his head in. "Did I hear someone say _abomination_? Are you-all talking about me behind my back?" He was grinning, or I would've given him a stern talk about self-esteem, no matter how endearing his absorption of Bobby's colloquialisms was.

"That's right, Sam-I-Am," said Gabriel, clapping his hands. "You aren't even the wickedest creature in this _room_. Jack, of course, is the worst of the worst, and will definitely hog the spotlight, but Dean's grace-patched soul will be a special kind of atrocity in Michael's eyes, purist that he is, and Cassie and I must be complete disgraces by now, myself twice over."

"Even Bobby must have done enough at this point, just stayin' alive, that he's on their shit list," I told my brother. "And let's not get started on Mom, resurrected by the Darkness itself. Man, you've got nothing to worry about."

Sam's eyes held their worry for moment longer, then his face cracked into a grin.

And then we were all laughing at the absurdity of it all, Jack leaning against the door and soaking it all in, amulet glowing just the slightest bit through the worn t-shirt he used for sleeping. Most of the time it had to suck being a partial empath around us – if he'd known us a decade ago, we might have drowned him in angst – but every so often there came moments like this one.

When we'd reined ourselves back in, I levered myself off the bed. "So, I guess I should go tell Mom and Bobby about our new development?"

Jack froze, not moving from his position in front of the door. "Um," he said articulately. "They're. Um. They're busy."

I was reminded of the closing scene in The Fifth Element, though Jack left out the hand gestures, for which I was thankful.

"Oh," I said. I felt everyone's eyes on me, full of wary concern, and I wondered why. "She's a grown woman, you guys, I'm not going to storm off to defend her honor or anything. As far as I'm concerned, if you're not gettin' as much as you can, as often as possible, then you're doing Post-Apocalypse all wrong. Besides, not that it's _any_ of my business, but whatever else this Bobby may be, he's a huge step up from that British Men of Letters psychopath."

"Hear, hear," said Sam, shuddering. " _So_ glad she shot him in the face."

"I'm not one to judge, anyway," I said, steeling myself. I was sorry to spoil the mood, but it was time to rip off this bandaid. "Especially since I…"

To my horror, I felt my cheeks flush, and all the eyes in the room turned accusing, except Cas's which just looked resigned, which was way worse.

Sam put it into words. "What did you do, Dean?"

I glanced at the floor, wrapping a hand around the back of my burning neck. "So, you know how I was having a nightmare? To be fair, I can count on one _finger_ the number of different people who pull me out of _those_."

None of the looks softened, so I forged onward. "He pulled me out, just in time, hand on the shoulder and everything, and he took me to where …" I glanced at Cas, and then at the rest of our audience. "Um, to where we got the fish for dinner. And I was just so grateful to not be in _Hell_ any more that I … I kissed him. Like, big time."

Silence. I looked only at my angel, the rest of the room reduced to spectators in my personal crisis. "I'm really sorry," I told him, when his face remained a careful blank. "I thought he was you, and when I realized he wasn't, I backed away, cursed a bunch, apologized also a bunch, and kept several feet between us for the remainder of the conversation, I swear."

More silence, but then his mouth twitched once, twice, and I knew I was saved.

"How did he take it? I am trying to think of how I would have reacted if a random human had planted one on me, and failing."

He let his grin break through, and everyone in the room relaxed.

"He seemed more surprised than anything else. If we hadn't had other things to discuss, he might even have given me a _fascinating_."

"Don't flatter yourself," he returned, but his smile softened it.

"Right," Gabe spoke up, clapping his hands once. "Bedtime for the humans, we've got a big day tomorrow, and I didn't tag along just so I could get stabbed by yet another brother because someone wasn't where they were supposed to be.

"Jack, if you're not going to sleep, you can stay and have a chat with me, as long as you don't mind doing it telepathically. The wards should allow us that much, at least. Cas, you can watch over Dean, and keep away the bad dreams," he shot me a wink, "and the poachers. Lights out in five."

I wanted to ask him who'd nominated him den mother, but then Jack was settling cross-legged on the next bunk over, and Gabe was taking a seat by Sam's head, nonchalantly mirroring the position Cas had taken up on my own bunk, and somewhere in the vicinity, a man and a woman to whom life had been cruel were enjoying each other's company, and my little family felt safe and warm, so I let it go.

* * *

We had a war council over breakfast, nominating and dismissing various venues.

I suggested the bunker. History had happened the same in both universes until well past 1956, so Abbadon's massacre should have taken place here as well, and it was the most secure place I could think of. And, it should be empty.

Sam was shaking his head, though. "Same problem here as at home," he said. "It's warded and sigil-ed to the hilt, so Jack's wards would take forever to weave in. Otherwise I'd have had you both back there a long time ago."

I looked over at Mary. "Mom, have you stopped by while you were on this side? It seems like a valuable resource."

She shook her head as well. "I'm not a legacy. It didn't seem right to crack it open after all this time, and not have the right to be there."

"What's all this about?" Bobby asked.

"There's a bunker out in Kansas," Sam told him. "Very secure, very comfortable, full of old books and information. We will definitely be taking you there once all this is settled, because we all know that once the human race rebounds, so will the monsters, and the humans will need someone watching their backs. Until then, though … "

"Back to Square One. Bobby, in this universe, did you build a panic room underneath Singer's Auto Body?" I asked.

He looked confused. "What in the hell for?"

I thought back to the many and varied uses he'd put it to, and realized how many of them were our fault. "Hmm," I said. "I guess nothing brings out the paranoia like being foster father to a couple of hunters and a lost angel. Moving on."

"What do we actually need the place to have?" he asked after a sideways glance at me, apparently checking my sanity.

"Ideally, posts," said Gabriel. "Don't even need a roof, which is why the forest clearing worked for y'all when you came to our lady's realm to get us. Also, a nice flat place to smear a banishing sigil if things go sideways."

We stopped, and all eyes turned to Jack.

"Do you … do you get banished?" Sam asked him.

"I have no idea," he said, looking suddenly nervous.

"How have we not tested this before?" I asked him. "Seems like something we should know, if only as an emergency escape strategy."

"I volunteer to stand next to the kid at the showdown," Gabriel said. "If it comes to it, I'll grab ahold of him. If he banishes, we'll banish together, and I'll fly him back. If he doesn't, then no harm, no foul. Problem solved."

Sam was beaming at him.

"Just one thing," Gabriel added. "I still want to do my dramatic reveal, so try to keep everything from blowing up in our faces until I actually arrive on the scene. Okay?"

"If we can't manage that, then this entire endeavor is pointless anyway," said Jack. "I'm in."

* * *

We ended up back at the lake house. Cas and Gabriel fast-traveled us north and west, and we appeared, blinking, on the scorched remains of the gravel driveway. The woods were pathetic remnants of their former glory, the lake was steaming and muddy with volcanic discharge, and what was left of the walls were gray and scarred by the constant grit-laden wind, but Jack still lit up a bit at the sight of home.

Gabriel flew off to look for hiding places, and Sam and Cas shouldered their bags of supplies and entered the house's creaking skeleton to get the wards set up. Mom and Bobby had opted to stay at the Haven, ready to act as Rescue Squad should this go even further sideways than any of us anticipated. This left Jack and me on the driveway with not much to do.

I focused on the edge of the erstwhile clearing. "Is there a weak spot here, in this universe, too?"

Jack squinted at the spot. "Yes," he said after a beat, eyes widening. "That's unexpected. I've never opened a hole here, on this side. You'd think a doorway between Earths would open in the same place in both worlds."

"Yeah, but think of it this way. When you created the first one, all you had to go on was Cas, and his feeling that he was up against something stronger than himself, and his memory that even when he was _God_ , Bobby Singer was a person who could help.

"So you reached out and opened a door to Bobby Singer. Not just any Bobby, but one that's had years of experience in angelic warfare. Pretty clever for someone who hasn't even drawn their first breath yet."

Sam stepped back out of the house and trudged over to us. "Cas is finishing up inside on his own," he said. "Are you guys ready?"

"As we'll ever be," I answered. "Who do you think he'll be wearing?"

I met Sam's eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of reality-disconnect so strong that Jack could sense it. He reached over to put a steadying hand on my shoulder. In another world, it might have been me, and I would've had to fight my own brother, and destroy the world the way this one had been destroyed. Only our own stubbornness had saved us.

"Shouldn't be anyone you know," Gabe said, popping up beside Sam, grounding me back in _this_ reality, weird as it was. "If he can't wear a shiny new Winchester, I doubt he'd bother changing from whichever of your ancestors he was wearing last. Reduces his exposure to humans, you see. He doesn't share Lucy's hatred of you lot, but he's plenty disdainful. I only hope your half-brother is working your family magic on _our_ Michael, back in _our_ Pit."

The familiar wave of guilt that always accompanied any mention of Adam washed over me, and I let it rise and ebb. Nothing I could do about that now; I'd run out of favors to call in, and everyone I knew who might have helped was dead.

Cas poked his head out of the house and waved us in. "I apologize for dismissing you, Sam," he said as we trooped inside, floorboards creaking under our weight. "But the wards were starting to resonate with the ones set up in our universe, and humans do not possess the senses required to tune them. I needed to … um."

He ran through his supply of technical terminology, and decided to go with, "I needed to _tweak_ them so that they worked in tandem, rather than cancelling each other out."

"I love it when you talk shop," I told him, grinning.

Sam ignored me and waved off Cas's apology. "No worries, dude. Does this mean they're stronger than they would be alone? And if something happens to these ones, will the ones at home still be okay?"

"Excellent questions, Sam," Cas told him. "Yes, they are stronger, and yes, the ones in our universe, while affected positively at the moment, would re-stabilize should these ones fail."

Sam beamed at the praise, and I resisted the urge to call him a nerd and tousle his mop of hair. He wasn't a teenager any more. And I wasn't prepared for what his magic hair might do to my hand if I messed with it.

"So, amulet on or off when they arrive?" Jack asked. "Do we want to impress them when they walk in the room, or wait for them to ask?"

"I'd say wait," Gabe replied. "Michael will see it as politeness. He likes politeness. I think it's the only aspect his personality has, aside from war leader and wannabe God. Never met a more boring dude in my life, and I've been around a _long_ time."

"Might as well test the wards," I said, "since we don't have time or resources for a test-banishing. Jack?"

Jack nodded, and lifted the amulet off his skin by the leather cord. Power spilled into the room, filling up the space inside the wards like a warm bath.

"Feels alright to me," he said, grinning at our reactions. "Nice and solid." He dropped the cord, and the warmth drained away, leaving us all a little colder.

"I guess that's it, then. I'll go make the call."

Cas put a hand on my arm before I could step outside. "Michael will have questions about our lives. I am concerned that he will judge my actions, and take it out on this universe's Castiel, when he discovers what we are capable of. I do not want him to consider us a future threat to his authority. This version of me does not deserve that."

"Hey, you never sought power. You just stepped in when he left a vacuum behind. Make sure he knows that, and everyone will get to go on living."

Three other heads nodded in agreement when he looked around to seek their opinions. His fingers briefly tightened their grip on my arm, and then loosened and slid down. "Well, then," he said, lacing them into mine. "Let us all be judged."

Gabriel, wearing a look of gleeful anticipation, vanished with a small _pop_ as Cas and I stepped onto the porch and moved down the driveway a little bit.

"Ready?" I asked him. At his nod, I closed my eyes, reached down deep, and prayed to the Angel of Thursday.

* * *

Castiel arrived first, accompanied by three officious-looking angels that I had never seen before. He stayed where he was, halfway across the yard, while they took off in all directions, circling the house. They managed to make nondescript middle-aged bodies look like secret agents, while Castiel met my eyes and gave me a small shrug.

The agent angels re-convened in front of the house, conferred, and nodded to each other. One of them called an _all clear, sir_ to Castiel, and he moved across the scarred gravel to join us, giving our linked hands a curious look.

Before he could speak, one of the other angels came up. "What's in the house, sir? We can't sense it from out here, and our orders are not to walk into anything blind."

He seemed to be trying to speak to both Castiels at once, ignoring me completely. I let it go; it's not every day you get to see two of your commanding officer at once, and from what I knew of angels, they weren't keen on new experiences.

"The house contains the nephilim and a human," Cas answered, voice stiff and formal. "The walls are warded, as specified by Michael, so that the nephilim's location will remain unknown to our enemy. The nephilim himself is wearing a containing amulet. You may enter at will, no harm will come to you."

The angel paused a moment, gaze flicking between his Castiel and mine, before giving a nod that was the equivalent of a salute and marching back to his compatriots. They approached the house with obvious caution, hesitating again where the front door used to hang, and then stepped inside.

Cas watched them go, face a blank mask, and I realized that he must have known them, that he had commanded them once, before choosing humanity over angel-kind. This world's Castiel must have come to the same conclusion, eyes going wide as he looked after his men.

"You're a commander, Castiel," Cas told him, still watching the house. "They listen to you, all of them, long past the point where they should stop. It is a power I have abused in the past, though always thinking I had a good enough reason to justify the abuse. I only hope that fate offers you better choices."

Castiel studied him in silence, very different from the creature full of questions that had visited me last night. In the end, he only had one, and he asked it with incredulity that was practically indecent for an angel. "What _happened_ to you?"

"A great many things, most of which are moot in your reality. When our Michael was locked away … well, it does not matter. Yours will not be, and you will not have to do what I did."

Cas pulled his gaze from the house and locked it onto his counterpart. "We were _God_ , Castiel. We were the most powerful creature on this earth, with all of the hubris that comes with it. The Fall is a lot farther, from greater heights."

Castiel looked faintly terrified – just a hint of it around the eyes.

"You do not have my safety net," Cas continued. "Be very careful. Find Anna, and help each other." He paused, bit his lip in thought, then seemed to shrug to himself. "And if you ever meet an angel who calls herself Naomi, _run_."

Two of the agent angels came back out of the house, preventing any follow-up questions. One of them took a few steps off of the porch and vanished, and the other turned to us.

"Could you join the others inside, please? I will stand sentry out here until he returns with Michael."

Both Castiels gave him mirroring nods of approval, and we all stepped past him back into the house. He was looking at me, eyes narrowed, apparently trying to figure out what was so special about me. I just waggled the fingers of my free hand at him in a tiny wave, causing a quickly-masked affronted look to cross his face.

Sam was leaning against the only furniture in the room, a solid-looking table, with his arms crossed across his chest. Everything else that had once furnished the place seemed to have rotted away.

Jack was standing in the center of the room, facing off with the agent angel who'd remained inside. His arms were hanging loose at his sides, trying to appear non-threatening, but the angel was clearly nervous, greeting Castiel with a relieved salute when we strolled in.

Jack turned to us as well, and a large grin bloomed on his face. "Hi, you must be Castiel! It's great to meet you!"

Castiel looked a little startled, and accepted Jack's outstretched hand with all the awkwardness of someone who's never been offered a handshake before but was still willing to make the effort. I caught Sam's sympathetic grin from across the room – his first encounter with Cas had gone much the same.

"It is nice to meet you as well. At the risk of causing offense, I must say that you are not what I was expecting."

Jack's smile didn't falter. "None taken. Our Castiel has explained how … unusual I am."

Castiel glanced over at his counterpart's hand, still clasped in mine, and gave Jack an un-angelic shrug. "There seem to be more and more things about the world that do not align with what I was taught. We can only adapt and move forward. I am looking forward to working with you, to bring about the end of our conflict."

His subordinate stiffened his shoulders in shock, but Castiel ignored him. I glanced at Cas, but his only reaction was a tiny, proud smile, quickly hidden.

"And you are Sam Winchester?" Castiel asked, turning toward my brother. Sam looked like he was being struck by a similar steamroller to the one that had hit me when I'd met this version yesterday. His mouth hung open a little, and his eyes were huge.

He blinked, coughed, and managed, "Um. I mean, yes, that's me. Thank you for working with us."

"That remains to be seen," said a new voice, as another figure darkened the doorway.

I turned to meet our guest of honor, and felt all of my blood turn to ice. Only the reflexive tightening of Cas's grip on my hand kept me upright.

"I am Michael," said the angel wearing my father's young face, like he'd stolen him straight from the 70's. In fact, he probably had. His dark eyes assessed the room, taking in and dismissing the two suddenly immobile humans and the two versions of his subordinate, and settling on Jack.

"Is this the abo-"

Castiel affected a throat-clearing noise, raising his eyebrows expressively at Michael when he glanced his way.

"Ah." Michael turned back. "I mean, is this the nephilim?"

"Hello, my name is Jack." I had never been more proud of the kid than I was in that moment, at how steady his voice was, and how straight he held his shoulders. "I am the son of Lucifer and a human woman. I am here to offer my assistance in your battle against my father and all that he stands for."

Michael frowned. "So I have been informed. It is true, then, what Castiel said about all of you being from another universe? It seems so absurd, yet you are here, full-grown, and none of us sensed the moment of your creation."

"It is true. I apologize for compounding your war by sending our Lucifer here. I was very young, and did not comprehend the consequences of my actions. I would like to make up for that, now."

"What is it that you plan, nephilim? I have been waging war against my brother for some time now, in human years. What can you do that will be more effective?"

Jack took a breath, face earnest. "I know that you remember how it used to be, when your family was small, before your father created humanity, when you loved each other. There is still the potential for peace inside him. On our world, he met your father again, and received an apology from him for his cruel treatment."

Michael looked surprised. "Our father was seen? Actually _seen_?"

My Cas spoke up. "Yes. He is still out there, he simply no longer wishes to involve himself in our decisions. He has become more of a supporter of free will as time passes, even for those of us that were not created for it."

He received a searching look for his contribution to the conversation. "And you are the other universe's Castiel?" Our joined hands seemed to set him back a step, but Cas's grip didn't loosen. Michael voiced Castiel's earlier question, but without his underlying tone of compassion. "What happened to you?"

"I made many sacrifices in the name of the greater good. I learned some things about our version of you, with regards to this war, that caused me to choose my own path." The other Castiel gave him a sharp glance, but didn't interrupt. "I never stopped following our father's plan, but I chose to do it in my own way."

"You _chose_." He made it sound like a dirty word. "You sided with the _humans_?"

"A choice I have never regretted. It was the right thing to do; Father confirmed it."

But Michael was looking at me now, not as thoroughly distracted by the mere mention of Chuck as all his younger siblings seemed to be. "And this human, in particular?"

" _These_ humans," Cas said, gesturing at Sam as well. "Michael, these are the Winchesters. They fulfilled the prophecy, but still prevented the war you are currently waging, back in our universe."

Michael looked from me to my brother and back, taking in our frozen faces. "They do not say much, do they?"

"That's to be expected, big brother, when you show up wearing their dad's face," said Gabriel, appearing with a flourish at Sam's side. He turned to Sam, gripping his shoulder, and glanced at me as well. "I'm so sorry, you guys. I had no idea this was even a possibility."

Michael and the guard-angel seemed just as shocked as I'd been when Michael'd walked in wearing Young John, and it made me feel a little better. Castiel wore an adorably smug smirk, and I wondered again how close he was to Falling.

Michael opened his mouth, but Gabriel held up a hand. "I'm with them, from the other universe. I'm not your Gabriel, and I do not speak for him. Yes, you're wearing John Winchester. In our universe, he married a lovely lady named Mary Campbell and had these two fine strapping boys. Boys you're currently traumatizing."

Michael thinned his lips at his younger brother, then turned back to me. He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

"Castiel, why does this human radiate your grace?"

"The Righteous Man sustained severe damage in Hell, Michael," said my Cas, though it was unclear which of the two Castiels he had been addressing. "I was ordered to retrieve him, and it was the only way to make him whole again."

"If this is the Righteous Man of the prophecy, then _this_ ," he turned to Sam, lip now curling in a sneer, "must be the tainted brother. Lucifer's true vessel."

Sam seemed to shrink, an incredible feat for a man of his stature, but Gabriel stepped in front of him, fists on hips and eyes blazing. "None of that, now. It's not their fault that they were pushed into your ridiculous prophecy. They're innocent, both of them, and they survived, _and_ averted the war you're _still_ mired in, by being _human_. By rejecting fate and choosing their own path."

Michael studied Sam unapologetically over Gabriel's shoulder. "But he did say yes to Lucifer?"

"He did," Gabriel snapped, trying to loom larger through sheer will. "Because it was the final step of their plan to avert the Apocalypse. Once he'd let Lucifer in, he took control back and threw _himself_ into the Pit."

Michael raised thick black brows. "And yet, they both walk the earth once more. Did someone succumb to _human_ _feelings_?"

"Rescuing Sam was a team effort," I said, the need to defend my brother trumping my lingering shock. Even my father's eyes turned back on me with such contempt couldn't stop me. Angels were such _dicks_.

"Cas…tiel here gripped him tight and raised his body from perdition – he's got a thing for saving Winchesters who get in over their heads, I guess – and I earned a favor from Death, so he pulled Sam's soul out of the Pit for me and stuck it back where it belonged."

Dark eyes blinked at me, and he seemed to be at a temporary loss for words. "…Death?" he managed to croak after a beat.

"Yeah. You know, creepy guy, pale, carries a scythe, loves tacos?"

Michael instinctively turned back to Gabriel for help, but was met only with a wicked grin and no assistance whatsoever.

"Setting that aside for now," he said, trying to take back control of the conversation. "How did Lucifer get back out?"

"That one is on me, actually," Cas admitted, and I could tell it had cost him. I squeezed his hand as he continued, "Through a ridiculously complex series of events, the Darkness from the beginning of Time was released, and we had unfortunately run out of archangels to consult about how to battle her. Lucifer's price for his assistance was his release."

Cas gestured at us with his free hand. "The Winchesters were against it, but I knew it was the only way, so I said yes to him."

Michael's mouth hung open just a tad. "The Darkness, you say? And … and your vessel, he …?"

"Jimmy Novak was killed several years ago, but our father reconstituted my grace into this body. Several times, in fact. It is mine and mine alone."

Cas turned to Castiel, who was watching with wide eyes, one hand twitching in a way that seemed outside his control. "Jimmy, if you can hear me, you are in Heaven with your wife in our universe, and your daughter is a strong, beautiful young woman."

Castiel's hand gave a final twitch and went still once more, and he gave us a shy smile. "Amelia has been gone from this planet for a decade, but they always wanted children. He is pleased to hear they managed to do so."

"Never mind all that," growled Michael. "What do you mean, you _ran out of archangels_? Did Gabriel sit the war out on your side as well? And Raphael? _Myself?_ "

"Oh, no, brother dearest," Gabriel singsonged. "I _died_. Lucifer friggin' _stabbed_ me, and I _died_. Staring blank eyes, wings turned to ash, the whole deal."

"And as for you," Sam spoke up for the first time, and Michael whirled back to him, looking rather spooked now, "you showed up at the last minute and tried to kill me anyway. When we went into the Pit, you came with us, and Lucifer drove us all slowly mad for _decades_."

My brother grinned at him, and it wasn't a nice grin. I was damned proud of _him_ , too.

"With you gone, there was a civil war in Heaven," said Cas, taking the thread back up when he was sure that Sam's expression had had the desired effect. "Raphael was in favor of re-opening the Pit, letting you both out, and starting the Apocalypse anew. I held to our father's plan: that the earth was for the humans, not a battleground for our family squabbles."

Castiel and the unnamed agent-angel were unabashedly staring at us like a freak show of horrors. The agent seemed more and more disturbed with each new bit of information, but Castiel looked fascinated.

"So you – _you, Castiel_ – _you_ defeated Raphael?" Michael scoffed. "An _archangel?_ "

"I tried so hard to find any other way, but he would not be swayed. I had to struggle to apply human reasoning to the problem, but yes. I _did_."

Michael opened my father's mouth to say something else – probably something unflattering – in response, but we were all interrupted by a warm swirl of power that tingled along our skins.

" _Ahem_ ," said Jack, holding the thong of his amulet across his palm, letting the silver talisman dangle at arm's length. "I think we've made our point. Suffice it to say, we will be attempting to subdue Lucifer whether we have your trust – and backup – or not. We just wanted to know if we'll be fighting _two_ archangels and their armies instead of just the one we came here for."

Michael stared at him for a full minute without speaking, while the warmth Jack projected washed over us all. Jack stared right back.

"I will consult with my generals," Michael said at last. "When we come to a decision, we will have Castiel contact you." Castiel, who somehow managed to be wearing a neutral expression when Michael glanced his way, bowed his head in acquiescence.

"One more thing, please," said Jack, slipping the thong back over his head. He tucked the amulet under his shirt once more, and the angels in the room untensed slightly as his power drained away.

When he was sure Michael wasn't about to vanish mid-sentence, he continued, "I would also like to repair this world, to make it fit for humans once more. Please feel free to contribute any ideas you might have, and I will do everything in my power," not just a figure of speech, "to see that they are implemented."

Michael gave him a curt nod, and then made what was apparently a gesture that indicated everyone on his side should follow him out. He stalked out the door, followed by the agent angel. Castiel looked like he wanted to stay behind, to ask us any of the million questions this meeting had generated, but Cas shook his head.

"We'll talk soon," Cas told him. "It will look suspicious if you linger."

Castiel's eyes widened, and he hurried after his brother, with a last glance over his shoulder at me.

I waved, and he smiled, and then he was gone and it was over. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief, even the ones who didn't need to breathe.

* * *

"Well, it definitely could've gone _worse_ ," said Bobby from where he was leaning against the wall of the Haven's main room, arms crossed across his chest.

"Yeah, he could've smited us on the spot, I guess," I said, shrugging. I was more concerned about Mom, who was still sitting motionless at the table where she'd dropped when we'd reported who Michael had been wearing.

For all the experience everyone in this room had with loved ones coming back from the dead – or doing so themselves – we had no idea what to say to her. _Hurray, the alternate-universe version of your dead husband has been resurrected as a mega-douche's meat suit?_

"And now we're stuck waiting again," added Sam. He put a hand on Mom's shoulder and squeezed, but took it away after a few seconds, leaving her to sort out her feelings in peace. If there was one thing this family was great at, it was leaving each other along to deal with feelings.

"I have concerns about this world's Cassie," Gabriel chimed in, trying to change the subject. "I followed your progress as you fell in with the Winchesters, little brother. There's no way you would be this far along your rebellious path by now without outside assistance."

Cas looked thoughtful. "I think I am influencing him, just by being here. No, I can feel it," he said, when Gabriel pulled a skeptical face. "We have the same grace. The _same_. Father created grace differently than he created unique human souls. When I came through, the grace that is mine, that belongs to every Castiel in the multiverse, started assimilating. The force of my personality is stronger than his, so the end result is a lot closer to me than it is to him."

I gave him a worried once-over. "And you? Did you slide back towards him at all?"

"A little." He smiled. "I have not felt innocence this pure in some time. It is … refreshing. And hopeful."

"What about your memories?" said Jack. "I got the package deal of grace-memories from you and my father. If you share grace, does he get a share in your memories as well?"

Cas looked stunned. "Oh." A pause, and horror whitened his face. "Oh, _damn_." I'd never heard a curse word pronounced with more heart-felt intent. It helped that he rarely resorted to such strong language. We were all properly shocked.

"Well, hang on, maybe it's not so bad," Sam said, ever the problem solver. "Can _you_ access _his_ memories? It should work both ways, so if you can't, then maybe he can't either."

I saw Cas's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "I will try. Thank you, Sam. Outside the wards is probably best."

So we all trooped outside, including Mary, who seemed to return to herself when we started moving _en masse_ , and gathered around as Cas seated himself on a convenient rock a little ways away from the manmade grotto Bobby called home.

I worried at my lip with my teeth, wondering how I could help.

"Dean," he murmured, without opening his eyes.

"Yeah, Cas, what is it? What can I do?"

"I need you to go farther away, please. You contain my grace as well, I seem to be getting some … interference."

"Like feedback on a bad mic? Yeah, okay. I'll be over there."

I wandered a bit, back along the road we'd used to get here from the portal – was that only yesterday? Geez. It felt like we'd been here for _weeks._

Which meant I was the first person to see the two figures trudging along in the distance, heading in our direction. They seemed human, but then, both demons and angels wore humans with varying degrees of success, so there was no way to really be sure.

"Bobby?" I called.

An interrogatory grunt was carried back to me on the never-ending wind.

"We got visitors incoming. What's the protocol here?"

An expletive, some more grumbling, and then he was beside me, holding a leather satchel. "Everyone comin' in gets tested, even the ones we've met before." He squinted at the figures in the afternoon light. "And that looks like Bill and his wife. Hunters from way back before the end of the world, and old friends. They know the drill."

"How do they feel about harboring angel-kind? Or visitors from alternate realities?"

He frowned, face pulling into well-worn lines. "They've met your mom, so they've definitely heard about you and yer brother. Not sure how we'll explain the other three."

I looked back at the approaching figures. The smaller one jogged something in my memory, but I couldn't pin it down. "Just have to hope they don't have an amulet like yours, I guess."

"Ain't no amulet like mine. 'Cept yours, I guess. If everyone keeps their head, it should be fine. The Harvelles won't have a reason to suspect anythin' is out of the ordinary."

I started to respond, but the wind gave an extra-strong gust, clearing away some of the haze, at the same time that Bobby's words registered. "The Harvelles," I repeated weakly. "Bill, and his wife. Ellen."

"That, right there, that look on your face, that's the opposite of keepin' your head," Bobby said. "Did you have Harvelles on your world, too?"

"Yeah. Ellen, and her daughter Jo."

"No Bill?"

"He died in a hunting accident before I could meet him. Ellen always said it was my dad's fault, though she assured me she didn't blame him."

Bobby gave me a long look. "Did you get those ones killed, too?"

"Yeah." No use denying it. They featured prominently on my list of dead, which I'd been trying unsuccessfully to drown in booze for the past decade or so. "First time we went up against Lucifer, in fact."

"Then it was _his_ fault, not yours."

I blinked at him. He was crossing his arms over his chest again, and I'd grown up with a Bobby whose word was final, when he crossed his arms like that. But this wasn't that Bobby. So maybe...

"But-"

"Nope. They were people who made their own choices. You can't take the blame for everyone who dies near you. You can't live like that."

"It's kind of his thing, actually," said Sam, cresting the rise we were standing on. "What brought … this … on…"

He trailed off, eyes catching on the two figures, much nearer now. "Is that …?"

"Yup."

"Dude."

"Yup. Bobby says we can't make it weird. Better let everyone else know who's coming to dinner."

Sam headed back down the hill without another word, face set, and I stood next to Bobby as the couple came into speaking distance at last, the man waving a greeting.

"Bobby! It's us again! Good to see you!"

He held out his hand, but instead of shaking it, Bobby dropped the silver coin into it. Bill stood still, apparently accustomed to this practice, until Bobby nodded, then he tipped it into Ellen's upraised palm.

Bobby was staring at her, alert for signs of discomfort that might indicate a skinwalker, so I used the opportunity to stare at her as well. If she was anything like mine, this would be the only chance I got.

And she did look a lot like mine. A bit weathered – this one had been hunting all the time that mine had been running a bar, but this one had never been widowed, or had a daughter to worry over, either – and her hair was cut short, but otherwise it was the same face that I'd last seen grief-stricken and covered in blood as she volunteered to stay behind with Jo and the detonator.

Bobby nodded again, and she traded him back the coin for the flask of holy water – Bobby and I took our swigs first, of course – so I switched my scrutiny to her husband. He was almost as tall as me, sinewy, and prematurely gray-haired. His hands looked rough and callused when he accepted the flask from her, but his face had more smile-lines than frown-lines.

Bobby handed me the coin while the Harvelles were proving they weren't possessed, and once that was all out of the way, everyone's faces broke into grins as they gripped hands and clapped shoulders.

"Great to see you guys! What brings you back this way so soon? I thought you were gonna try farther east?"

"It didn't pan out, and Ellen felt bad leaving Mary alone with your cranky ass for too long, so we headed back. Who's this?"

"Oh, Bill, Ellen, this is Dean. I know Mary told you-all about her sons? They showed up yesterday with some friends."

Ellen looked me up and down, still smiling. "Well, how about that? Wow, you're a big one, aren't you? When'd she have you, age twelve?"

Her warm-honey voice stabbed me right in the heart, but I smiled back and avoided the question. "Wait 'til you see my little brother. Makes me look like a shrimp. It's nice to meet you both."

"Come on back to the Haven, guys," said Bobby, gesturing down the hill. "The boys brought some fresh fish, so we'll have a nice meal for once."

"We caught a couple rabbits while we were on the road," said Bill as we started moving. His voice was a pleasant tenor. "Bit scrawny, but they've got some meat on 'em. Can we throw in?"

"Rare find, these days," replied Bobby, slapping Bill on the back. "We'll make 'em stretch."

Mary separated from the group at the bottom of the hill and flew up to meet us, beaming. She and Ellen threw themselves into each other's arms. "You came back!" she said. "I was pretty sure we'd never see you again!"

Ellen laughed. "You think I could just leave you here with Bobby? And, your boys came back! Did they…"

She paused to scan the rest of the group, then held one hand up and stage-whispered behind it, "Did they find who they were looking for?"

"Sure did," Mary replied. "Bill, Ellen, you've apparently met Dean, and this one is Sam, my youngest."

Sam waved, giving his best shot at a friendly smile. It looked strained to me, but then, I knew him pretty well.

"And this," Mom stepped away from Ellen and slung an arm over Cas's shoulders, "is Castiel. My boys got him back after all, and picked up his brother Gabriel and their nephew Jack along the way. Turns out, they make a pretty good team."

Cas was looking a bit uncomfortable, but gave a good-natured shrug and a wave hello. We had no idea what Mom had told the Harvelles about what we'd been attempting to rescue Cas _from_ , exactly, so we just had to roll with it.

Ellen let her gaze switch back and forth between Cas and me. "And did everything… um. Did everything work out like you were hoping?"

Mom beamed even wider, which I hadn't thought was possible at that point, and that seemed answer enough.

I glanced over at Gabriel and Jack, who were both being uncharacteristically silent. Neither of them had met our Ellen, but I knew Jack well enough to recognize his barely suppressed joy. If Bobby had been at the top of his list of people he'd seen in our memories that he'd wanted to meet, Ellen had to be a close second.

Gabriel just looked solemn – well, solemn for _him_ – and placed himself at Sam's side in case moral support was required.

"Can we go in now?" Bobby asked. "We can all get better acquainted over dinner."

"What were you guys doing outside, anyway?" Bill asked, ducking under the first lintel. "Bobby, you don't usually spend any more time than you have to where angels might see you."

Bobby shot a final suspicious glance at the sky before following him. "Showin' the kids a routine patrol. No point in havin' young blood around if I can't abuse my power as an elder."

"Hey, we're visitors, not slave labor," Gabriel threw in as we arranged ourselves around the table. The Harvelles looked a bit more relaxed now that we were inside the wards. Since I wasn't from this reality, it was hard for me to imagine what it must be like, traveling the countryside and being vulnerable, without Enochian runes to shield you.

Ellen cleared her throat, and I realized that she had remained standing. "Now that we're all in a safe place, will one of y'all tell us what's _really_ going on?"

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked. It didn't sound very convincing.

Ellen rolled her eyes and didn't dignify it with a response.

"Knew they'd figure me out," Mary said, shrugging. "They're smart, and they'd both met Mary Campbell, back before the world ended."

Bobby stared at her, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me this might happen?"

"It didn't seem relevant. I was sure my boys would come before I ever saw them again. And, turns out I was right, for all the good it does us." She didn't seem worried, and Ellen and Bill didn't look scared, just impatient.

"I _knew_ you weren't the real Mary Campbell, even though you look just like her, because I burned her body over a decade ago. Still, you passed Bobby's tests, so you weren't a threat, and I _liked_ you. So what are you?" Ellen gestured at the rest of us. "And your boys?"

Bobby sighed. "This is gonna be a difficult conversation. I'm prescribin' alcohol." He got up, dug a large jug out of a cupboard, thunked it on the table, and resumed his seat.

"What's so difficult?" asked Bill. "Just answer the question. Are you ghosts?"

"Ghosts wouldn't get past the Haven's wards," Mary said, snagging the jug and taking a quick swallow. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "We're as real and alive as anyone. Several times over."

Bobby accepted the jug when she passed it to him and took a swallow for himself. "Difficult because you ain't gonna believe it. Shit, I hardly believe it myself, and I've had a year to wrap my noggin around the idea."

He wiggled the jug at Ellen. She stayed still, arms crossed, a moment longer, then sighed and sat down at the table between Bobby and her husband, hand out for it. Her swallow was larger, and she sighed again once it had gone down.

When everyone had had their turn – no one was worried about cooties, not when the contents of the jug were practically a sterilizing agent – Ellen placed both hands flat on the table and turned back to Mary. "Hit me with it. It's been eatin' at me ever since we left, and I just want to know."

We all looked at each other, unsure how to begin. Gabriel, true to form, stepped into the silence. "First things first. My brother and I are actually angels. Oh, sit down, you know we can't do anything in here. These wards really are quite extensive."

With truly impressive speed, Ellen had reached to the nape of her neck to whip a blade free from the loose collar of her plaid button-up, and Bill had leaped to his feet and pulled a gun, but when no one else in the room reacted, they stood down. I noticed, however, that even though Bill took his seat again, both he and Ellen put their weapons on the table, in easy reach.

"Now that that's out of the way-"

"She said Gabriel," Ellen interrupted. "Are you the missing archangel?"

"Not quite," he grinned. "Now we get to the part that really boils Bobby's noodle. We – all of us: Mary, too, but not Bobby – are from a different universe."

He did spooky fingers, then let his words hang over the table for a bit. Ellen's first reaction, after a solid minute had passed, was to grab the jug and take another sip, and then to turn back to Mom. "Explain."

Mom smiled. "It all hinges on Jack, here. Maybe I should let him tell it."

Jack blinked in surprise. "Oh. Um. Okay. So, like they said, I'm Gabriel and Castiel's nephew. Back in our universe, my mother was a normal human lady. She didn't even know that angels or demons existed, because on our world, this war was prevented, and regular humans got to keep living regular lives. All thanks to Sam and Dean and Castiel, by the way. And their version of Bobby."

Ellen and Bill gave us all quick searching looks, and I knew we'd have to tell them the whole story later, but for the moment, Jack had the floor.

"But a few years later, Lucifer got free. And he met my mom. And they made me."

He paused, waiting until the whites of the Harvelles' eyes weren't visible all the way around their irises.

"I'm what's called a nephilim. We're pretty rare. One of my powers is to be able to create gateways to different universes. Right before I was born, I opened one to this place, and Mary pushed our Lucifer through it, sealing him away from me so that he couldn't corrupt me and use my powers to destroy the world."

Bill spluttered a few times, and I remembered how this world's Castiel had accused us, but Ellen put a calming hand on his arm and gestured for Jack to go on.

"Sam and Dean raised me to appreciate life, and to know good from evil. When they figured I was strong enough, I re-opened the portal so that I can confront my father and try to undo the damage he has done here."

"Not that I doubt Bobby's word, or anything, but how can we be sure you're telling us the truth? This whole thing seems pretty wild," said Ellen.

Jack frowned. "Short of opening another portal, that's going to be kind of difficult. All of you are gone on our side, and vice versa, if we even existed at all. Gabriel and Castiel have doubles here, but would you trust their word?"

Bill shrugged. "Angels don't much care about humans – present company excepted, apparently – but I've never known one to lie."

"Great," I said. "The Castiel here is supposed to report back to us later, anyway. You can see him then, get his take on things."

"Report…?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck with a large hand. "We … um. We had a sort of summit this morning with Michael. This world's Castiel is acting as our go-between."

Jack reached out with inhuman reflexes to catch the jug when Bill fumbled it. "With … _Michael?_ "

Mary spoke back up. "Look, we understand if you-all would rather not be involved. We're not asking you to participate, or to back us up, or anything, but you did want to know."

Ellen and Bill held a conversation entirely using facial expressions, the way that only two people who've known each other a very long time can. Jack watched them with interest. He'd gotten much better at nonverbal cues in the year he'd been with us, but human interactions still fascinated him.

The conversation ended with Ellen raising one shoulder, and one corner of her mouth, and Bill turned back to the table as a whole. "We'd like to hear your plan, and your whole story, before deciding whether or not you're all insane."

I grinned. "That's going to be debatable, either way." Cas elbowed me in the side, but it was worth it.

* * *

"Wait, so you've _all_ been dead? _How_ many times?"

* * *

"Just how many apocalypses have you averted, anyway?"

* * *

"You called Lucifer a _what?"_

* * *

By the time we'd come around to "Michael was wearing _who?"_ , Mom had managed to make and serve dinner, and the Harvelles were looking a bit shell-shocked. Bobby looked only marginally better; it seemed Mom hadn't quite told him everything. We'd left out a lot, since a decade was a lot to go over in one night, but I think we'd gotten in the pertinent bits.

Jack, with his multi-memory storage, filled in the parts that our fallible human brains had skipped over. Ellen was impressed that he was only a year old. "Remind me to make you a birthday cake, sweetie, when all this is over," she said absently, patting him on the hand.

Jack just grinned at her. "I might hold you to that," he said. "Dean never makes me cake."

"Hey, pie is good enough for anyone," I said defensively.

"Dude, just admit you don't know how to make it," Sam accused. "There's no shame."

A few of Bobby's jugs had been emptied at some point between the stew and the oatmeal cookies Mom had produced for dessert, but since we were all old hunters, everyone was comfortable and slightly warm, but no one was out of control.

Except I couldn't quite shake a feeling of being watched. Not threatened, just _observed_.

Cas noticed, of course. Not sure how, maybe a twitch in my shoulders or something. "Dean?" He put a hand to my cheek. Everyone suddenly had somewhere else to look. For all that they were fooling anyone, they might as well have been whistling casually, but I appreciated the effort.

"Cas, I think-"

And then I figured it out. I'd have had it sooner, but Bobby distilled some strong moonshine, and I was a lightweight again.

"Ah. Everyone, I think we're about to have a visitor. Be right back."

I stood up and made my way to the door, tugging Cas along by the hand. No way was I in any shape to face anyone alone, much less my greatest temptation.

The evening was cool and breezy, and the grit seemed to have subsided a bit, so I took a minute to try to sharpen my wits before reaching out.

 _Castiel. Hasn't anyone told you eavesdropping is rude?_

Cas squeezed my hand, and I shared a grin with him as the sound of wings arrived on the wind.

"How much of that did you hear?" I asked. "It's cheating, you know. The wards are meant to nullify angel mojo."

"They are very effective," he replied. "I could not locate you, and you were not asleep, so I did not know how to capture your attention without being invasive. I just meant to look in at regular intervals, so that I would know as soon as you were receptive, but …"

He trailed off and looked a little embarrassed.

"But you wanted to hear our story. Well, now you have. Though I have to warn you, we edited the best bits out."

His gaze snapped back up to mine, eyes wide. "There's _more?_ "

My mouth pulled up on one side, and I turned back to the angel holding my hand. "Cas, were you successful earlier, before Bill and Ellen showed up? I never got the chance to ask."

He was trying to frown. As a full-powered angel, the alcohol hadn't affected him, but he'd been infected by the giddy mood inside, and seemed to be finding it difficult to project the required seriousness. "Unfortunately, yes. Castiel, you and I have access to all of each other's memories. I would request that you not look, for your own sake, but were I in your position, I would refuse such a request, so I cannot ask it of you."

Castiel blinked at him, plain shocked. "…What?"

"I believe it is due to our shared grace. No matter how much I have changed, how many times I have died, I am still Castiel, and so are you. I would require a dark, quiet room, and several weeks undisturbed to really grasp the implications behind how that would affect a multiverse, but I have neither of those at the moment."

"Can we access Dean's memories, since his soul is interwoven with our grace?" Castiel asked. I knew it should have made my skin crawl, the idea that someone else could rifle my brain, but I had a nice buzz going, and if there was one constant in the multiverse, it was that Castiel, Angel of the Lord, would never hurt me – Naomi's brainwashing notwithstanding – so I just turned back to Cas and waited for his answer.

Cas opened his mouth, closed it, wrinkled his brow, and frowned at me. "That is a question for another time," he decided, turning back to his counterpart. "For now, there are more humans inside who would like to meet you. Did Michael deliver a verdict, or are you here without his knowledge?"

"He sent me to ask for more time. It seems that several of his counselors are advising against working with Jack."

I exchanged glances with Cas, and he took the lead. "Castiel, it is very likely that some of them are working for Lucifer. Our hypothesis is that a group of angels broke the seals and released him in the first place."

"Yes, that makes sense." I was expecting horror or denials, but he surprised me by nodding thoughtfully instead. "This means that whatever Michael shares with them, Lucifer will know shortly." His eyes widened in sudden horror. "Then he already knows you are here!"

"Yeah, probably," I said. "Not a big deal. Jack's logic still holds. As long as they don't figure out where _here_ is, we'll be ok. And you're not going to tell 'em, right?"

Castiel looked around, startled. "You summoned me to your place of safety?"

"Cas vouched for you. Said no matter how much you slipped, you'd never follow Lucifer's path, no matter what. So come on in! Gonna have to clip your wings a little, though."

I made an expansive, sweeping gesture back towards the Haven, throwing both Cas and myself off balance a little.

Castiel looked back and forth between us, settling on Cas as the reasonable one. "Is he … intoxicated?"

Cas let out a long-suffering sigh. "All of the humans within the dwelling are. It is how they deal with trying circumstances. Two more arrived earlier today, and they have spent the past several hours easing themselves into the idea of a multiverse. They are waiting on you as the final proof."

"And these new humans – I am assuming they are from _this_ universe – are amenable to conversing with an angel who is … _'local?'_ "

"If they were not prior to today, they certainly are _at the moment_ ," Cas responded drily.

* * *

Much was made over how similar the two Castiels were in appearance. Cas accepted the comments with his usual grace, but Castiel mainly looked uncomfortable, staying close to Gabriel and looking to him often for assistance.

Gabe played the dutiful big brother and seemed to be earning more and more of Sam's approval. I had no idea what they'd worked out between the two of them, but as long as everyone was happy, it wasn't any of my business.

"Did Michael and his team have any ideas for restoring this world's ecosystems?" Jack asked Castiel about an hour in.

Castiel looked thankful for the reprieve, as Ellen was currently poking him in the cheek with one finger, and she withdrew to allow him to respond.

"He had several theories, yes, but our primary focus has been on the war, not on its consequences, so we do not really have much to go on."

"Bring back the sun," Bobby interjected, in his typical terse fashion.

"That's it?" asked Jack. "We haven't seen any plants since we got here, are you sure that's all it'll take?"

Bobby nodded. "They're there, waitin'. It'll take time, sure, but bring back the sun, and everythin' else'll follow."

Sam weighed in from his seat at the table. "With all the plants gone, your world should be suffering from global dust bowl conditions, or even an Ice Age by now, the way your volcanoes are erupting, but 's not."

It sounded like gibberish to me, but Sam had always been the studious one, even wasted, and it must have made sense to Jack, because he nodded encouragingly in response.

"Got a theory 'bout it, actually," Sam continued, "but if 'm right, we'll need Michael's help, and the rest of the Host, too."

Castiel looked intrigued. "I will pass on any suggestions you have, of course."

"It's the _whoosh_ ," Sam made a weaving gesture with one hand, "… _flying_. When the host moves, its passage disturbs the atmosphere enough that the greenhouse effect can't set in. If we can direct the combined power of the wind generated by them, we … we …"

Running out of steam, he blinked up at his rapt audience, then dropped his head onto his folded arms and commenced snoring, to general hilarity.

Gabe seated himself on the table beside him and smoothed the hair away from his face. "I'm guessing you all get the idea? We can give him credit for it when we work out the finer details."

Mary wandered over as well and traced the one visible cheekbone. I'd seen her do it before, when Sam fell asleep in the common area at the Bunker, and she might do it to me as well, for all I knew – searching the adult for any traces of the child she'd lost.

She grinned up at Gabriel, all traces of melancholy set aside. "You could fix this, you know."

Gabe grinned back at her. "And lose a teachable moment about the consequences of overindulgence when he wakes up tomorrow? Not a chance. Besides, I can't do anything in here, and who's going to carry him outside? You?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Not in my skill set, even when sober, I'm afraid. I'll defer to your judgment on this one." And she wandered back to the other side of the table where Bobby and Bill were playing cards, giving my arm a squeeze on the way past.

Castiel observed everything with a mix of fascination and thinly masked confusion, with a dash of apprehension. Every so often, his shoulders quivered as if his wings were itching at him.

I leaned over to Cas. "The wards don't seem bother you as much as they're bothering him. Is it because you've been human?"

He shook his head in response. "This is nothing like being human. I can still feel my grace, and my wings, but it as if they are behind glass. I cannot access them. I still feel safe, because I trust you completely, but my counterpart does not have that luxury."

"Ah." I thought about that for a few seconds, then clapped my hands, drawing everyone's attention. Well, all the conscious people, anyway. "Alright, kids, it's been fun playin' host to a member of the Host, but Castiel here has to get back to his people. I'm sure we'll see him again before too long. Any last words?"

Castiel's twitching shoulders sagged in relief as everyone called out their goodbyes. He responded as politely as he could, then made a beeline for the door. Cas and I followed him out, ignoring Ellen's catcall regarding _'twins'_ as we left.

He seemed ready to fly off as soon as he exited the wards, but I reached out and caught his arm before he could vanish. "Do you mind staying a little bit longer? There's a couple more things we have to talk about. We can do it out here, though. I'm sorry, I didn't realize how hard on you the wards would be."

He hesitated, then nodded, and I let go as soon as a realized I was still touching him. The three of us walked up the hill, away from the Haven.

"Are you not concerned that Lucifer can locate you?" he asked.

"Nah. Cas carved the anti-angel runes into my ribs himself. I'm untraceable."

"But … but I can find you?"

I laced my fingers with Cas's again, sharing a smile with him. "Like Gabriel said, our connection runs deep. Follow your grace, you find me."

"Concerning our grace," Cas broke in. "Have you noticed any shifts in your attitude since our arrival in this universe?"

Castiel blinked at him. "I had not thought about it, but since you have pointed it out, I find that I must agree."

"I apologize for that, then," Cas said, solemn-faced. "I believe that since we share a grace, the changes that I have gone through are affecting you as well."

Castiel smiled, and it didn't look nearly as awkward as it should. We were in it pretty deep, apparently. "It seems you are simultaneously equipping me to handle any troubles you are causing. I cannot fault you for that." He held his hands up and looked at them, turning them over, flexing them into fists and flat again. "I feel … I feel like I have grown into a new skin. Does that make sense? I am still me, but … more so."

He dropped his hands to his sides again. "I fear I am not making any sense."

Cas stepped forward and grasped his shoulder. "I understand, more than you know. For the other thing we have to discuss: when you do go over my memories, please do not reveal to the other angels what you learn. We are not meant to know what happens to us when we die. That was Father's will."

He dropped his gaze to the dusty ground, though he didn't move his hand. "And please try not to judge me too harshly, when you witness all that I have done. I will not attempt to make excuses, or ask for forgiveness, but your disapproval will hurt, and I grow more able to feel with every day that passes."

Castiel, eyes wide, put his own hand over Cas's on his shoulder. "I cannot say how I will react until I have seen it for myself. However, I will keep in mind the reason for your actions," he glanced over at me, then back to his double, "and we can hope that will be excuse enough."

"Thank you," Cas said, and stepped away. "Please contact us when Michael has made a decision, or if you suspect the agents of Lucifer within the council have conceived their own plan. Be safe. If something happens to you, all avenues for contact will be lost."

"Plus," I couldn't help adding, "we'd all be sad. So don't die."

Castiel gave me a warm smile, and then vanished in a small whirlwind of dirt and sand.

Cas and I stood, hand in hand, staring upwards, trying to make out stars among the haze. I was definitely going to follow Sam's example soon, going by how hard it was to remain upright at this point, but there was something I wanted to ask Cas first. I'd always been a _shut the hell up and leave me alone_ kind of drunk, rather than the _let's discuss the mysteries of the universe_ kind _,_ but this had been bothering me since we'd walked through the gate.

"So this whole multiverse thing," I started.

Cas nodded, to let me know he was listening, but neither of us took our eyes off of the clouds.

"We're assumin' that there's a Chuck for each one, yeah? One God, one Heaven, per universe?"

Another nod.

"Do you think your lady's realm is its own universe? Or, like, some kind of … _pocket dimension_ inside each one?"

I suddenly became more interesting than the stars we couldn't see, apparently, as Cas turned to look at me.

"I just mean. I just. Um. Hang on, I had this. Ah. If there's a _Castiel_ in every universe, but you all have just the one grace, and if her realm is where you all go when you die, do you all share the afterlife? Like, when we saw you there, were you _everyone_? Or, if you die here, do you get to go meet her for the first time again? And the Castiel here joins you when he bites it?"

To my annoyance, he seemed to find this amusing. "Are you jealous, Dean Winchester?"

"Course I fuckin' am! She might as well have given you an engraved invitation! Still, I'd just walk in and demand you back from this one, too, even if I've never met her before."

Part Two of my Great Thought hit me like a sledgehammer. "We haven't pissed off Death in this universe! If _I_ die here, do I get to go to Heaven? Because if so, then you'd have to come with me, instead of to your lady. So there."

The asshole grinned even wider. "So you are suggesting some sort of suicide pact?"

I spluttered incoherently for a few seconds while he chuckled at my distress. "You know what? Forget it. I'm going to live forever, just to spite you." I took my hand back and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the pout on my face but unable to control it.

He ran the backs of his fingers up my cheekbone. "Good," he said, still smiling. "Me, too."

* * *

The call came late the next morning while I was leading an impromptu yoga class. My life had become so absurd at this point, it was getting kind of surreal.

Gabriel had taken off with Sam a while earlier, announcing that they needed to scope out where his ecosystem recovery plan could be put into greatest effect. As he dragged him out the door, I could only hope he healed him first, because going by Sam's face, if anyone took him flying, they were going to get vomited on.

We were all sitting around the table, finishing our post-apocalyptic oatmeal, when I asked Jack if he wanted to do some yoga with me, to shake off the dregs of my hangover.

He agreed, and we were about to go change into workout clothes when Ellen spoke up.

"Yoga? Not much of that going on since the civilized world ended. Would you mind an extra pupil? I used to love that shit."

When I nodded, she asked, "Mary? You in?"

Mom grinned. "How could I miss out on the first organized yoga class in the western hemisphere in probably half a century? Let me go get changed, and I'll meet you all in the workout room. Will you boys be joining us?"

Bobby and Bill made manly grumbling noises. "Can we just watch?" Bill said eventually. "It's going to be a nice view." He waggled his eyebrows at his wife, who crossed her arms at him.

"If you're in the room, you're participatin'," she told him. "Or I'm banishin' you to the other side of the Haven until we're done."

They caved. Cas was curious about the whole thing – I'd shown little to no interest in actually practicing the art prior to his death – and so I found myself leading a beginner's class for five pupils of varying degrees of expertise and enthusiasm, with Jack's assistance.

We ran through the basic poses, and then some more advanced ones when everyone seemed game enough. After a few repetitions, I took pity on Bobby and Bill, who were red-faced and puffing a little, and let us all lapse into lotus positions for some meditation and recuperation.

It was when I'd settled, cross-legged and clear-minded, that I felt a mental itch, like a polite knock on my consciousness's door.

"I'll be right back. Keep an eye on the room, Jack. If anyone drifts from thinking peaceful thoughts of nothingness, make them run laps."

He nodded with a mischievous grin as the human pupils exchanged wide-eyed glances. I untangled my legs and strode toward the door, pausing in front of Cas. He gave me an understanding nod, trusting me to go and meet Castiel alone despite my screw-ups the past few days.

One day I would earn the absolute trust I saw in his eyes, I swore it. Even if it killed me. Again.

" _Dean_ ," Jack called, snapping me back to awareness. "Stop angst-ing and get out of here before I make _you_ run laps."

"Ah, right, sorry." I gave Cas one final reassuring smile and headed out the door.

Castiel was standing just inside the wards, staring out at the gray hills surrounding the Haven. He turned when I ducked through the last doorway. "Hello, Dean."

I stamped on my visceral reaction to his words, hoping my Cas hadn't noticed it. "Good morning, Castiel. Nice to see you again so soon."

He looked me over. "You seem much improved from last night."

"Yeah, that was the exception, not the norm. These days, anyway." He seemed different, somehow. His eyes looked older, even for a millennia-old creature. I figured it out pretty quickly.

"Ah. You took a stroll down Cas's Memory Lane, huh?"

He nodded, face serious.

"Do I need to keep you and Cas apart? His self-esteem is low enough, he doesn't need you tearing him down."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Not at all! If anything, I owe him an apology, for being so free when he is so burdened!"

"Well, that's a relief, anyway. Hey," I grabbed at his sleeve when he turned to go inside, "can I ask you something? About him? Now that you're all caught up?"

"Of course, Dean."

"He knows I love him, right? He says he does, and I know he doesn't lie to me any more, but he knows? Like, _really_ knows? Chick-flick style?"

Castiel smiled. "He knows, Dean Winchester. He has a few concerns, which he would never speak aloud to you, but he knows."

"But you would?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows encouragingly. "Speak them aloud, that is?"

"I do not see the harm in it. His most superficial concern is his gender. You are a heterosexual male human, and he is an asexual angel using a male human as a vessel." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Though his sexuality seems to have been altered by the lady Freyja."

I shrugged, feeling my cheeks heat up a little at discussing these things out loud. "Not sure how long that'll last, and if it ends, it ends, and we'll handle it when we have to. It's who he is inside – the giant pillar of light – that matters, so the vessel part is kind of irrelevant. Not to say I won't want to look at women ever again, but we'll definitely talk about that when the time comes. No rush. What else?"

He looked uncertain. "He certainly would never mention it, and if he did, he would agree with your choice, but he feels that if a situation arose where you had to choose between him and your brother, you would choose Sam."

I blinked like a stunned mullet. "Oh," I managed after a minute. "Yeah, that's a tough one, and he's got a lot of historical evidence on his side. Thank you for letting me know."

I noticed the uncomfortable set of his shoulders, and remembered that he'd been inside the wards the whole time, probably avoiding being tracked, even though it made him feel vulnerable.

"Jack's probably wrapped up class by now. C'mon inside. In for a penny, in for a pound."

"What do defunct United Kingdom monetary units have to do with anything?" he asked, following me in.

Unable to stop myself, I gave him a fond smile that he hadn't yet earned from me. "Human idiom, don't worry about it."

I forgot I was dealing with the new, improved Castiel, who frowned at me. "You were not so forgiving with your world's version of myself's cultural failings."

"And you get to reap the benefits of his years of taking shit from us," I replied with a shrug. "Nice how that works, isn't it?"

"It does not seem fair."

"The universe is not fair, Castiel. Not mine, not yours, probably none of them out of an infinite number of choices."

Immediately wanting to apologize for being so harsh, I was instead startled when his smile returned.

"That is more characteristic of your early interactions with him. Thank you. I did not wish for special treatment."

That was the point where I noticed that the rest of the group had trooped into the main room, still clad in workout-wear, all looking intensely curious, so I just threw my hands in the air in surrender. "Masochists, both of you, I swear."

Ever the master of comedic timing, Gabriel took that moment to duck into the room behind us and throw in his two cents. "That'll never work, Dean; you can't _both_ be masochists in a relationship, and you're worse than he is. As a professional sadist, I volunteer my services." He gave us a serviceable leer.

Sam, trailing him, gave him a swat to the back of the head, but he was smiling.

"Need any help?" asked Gabriel, hard on Sam's heels. "Two whips are better than one, you know."

Everyone in the room did a double-take.

"This is getting out of hand," I quipped into the shocked silence. "Now there are two of them."

The second Gabriel gave us a small wave. "Hi, everyone! Nice warded hut you've got here." His gaze bounced between Castiels, both of whom were gaping at him, finally settling on the one in the trench coat.

"This one's mine, right? Hey, little brother. Been a while, huh?" He turned back to our Gabriel. "You were right, it's much weirder seeing two versions of someone else than it is coming face to face with yourself. Why is that?"

"Because, dear twin – say it with me, Sam – we're-"

Sam joined in, grinning, "You're-"

"… _just that narcissistic_ ," they finished together, then burst into laughter.

"Ha ha," this world's Gabriel drawled. "You guys are hilarious. What, did you rehearse that bit beforehand? Never mind, I don't want to know. I can't decide if it'd be worse if you had, or if you hadn't."

"What made you change your mind?" Castiel asked, apparently eager to initiate conversation with the brother he hadn't seen in literal ages.

Alt-Gabriel shrugged. "I took some time to think. The only reason I'm sitting this one out is because I don't want to pick sides between my brothers, but the enemy here isn't _my_ brother, he's _theirs_ , so that threw that reason right out the window. And, I'm tired of hiding."

He glanced at Sam, then shrugged again and turned back to Castiel. "And I miss humans. Angels are boring and demons are single-mindedly ambitious. There's no one to play with any more."

 _Another one bites the dust,_ I thought to myself. They probably had some kick-ass post-Apocalyptic rock music in this universe, but I doubted Queen had made it through the End unchanged. The music alone was enough to ensure I'd never stay here, no matter how many of our lost we might recover.

He gave Castiel a suspicious squint. "You seem different somehow. Not as … _foot-soldier-y_. I'd say something about your rebellious streak, but I get the feeling that all the best reunion lines were already taken by Mr. Handsome over there." He jerked a thumb at our Gabriel, whose smug smirk dropped right off his face, and I thought I knew why.

If they'd neglected to mention the personality drift caused by shared grace, and this Gabriel found out that his decision might not have been as personal as he believed, his reaction probably would not be positive, to use a mild understatement. All we needed, to have a pissed-off archangel on our hands, was for Castiel to spill the beans.

However, we underestimated the new Castiel.

He just smiled at his brother. "I am very happy to see you. And, after decades of war, it is nice to have the hope of a peaceful future at hand." He made a not-so-subtle gesture in my direction.

Alt-Gabriel found my patched-up soul just as distracting as Castiel had intended, even though I was in no way the main event in the room.

"You must be Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man," he said, holding out a hand in my direction. "Your brother had a lot to say about you."

Frankly astonished by the offered courtesy, I shook it. "It's getting him to shut up that's the hard part," I told him. "Nice to have you on our side."

With that, he seemed to remember that there was an entire room full of people he'd been ignoring. More specifically, he noticed their attire, and his face split into an easy grin.

"Why didn't I get an invite to the pajama party? I'm tops in a pillow fight!"

Jack stepped forward, stretching his own hand out. "Must have gotten lost in the mail. Postman's always late 'round here. I'm Jack."

"Ah, the man of the hour!" Alt-Gabriel said, reciprocating the handshake a bit more vigorously than politeness required. "Sam had almost as much to say about _you_. You're going to try to save us all?"

Jack's grin twisted. "I'd like to make a Star Wars reference, but I'm not precisely sure when our worlds split." He glanced at me, and I gave him a proud thumb's-up, while Sam smiled like a loon in the background. Looks like I'd raised a couple of super nerds. "Anyway, I'm not just going to try. This is something I _have_ to do."

"Then what's the hold-up? I need the humans to get with the rebuilding, with emphasis on the candy factories, ASAP."

We all turned to Castiel. "What's the news from Michael this morning?" I asked him.

"Ah." He looked surprised to be asked, as if he'd forgotten the entire reason he was here, stuck inside wards that made him vulnerable and uncomfortable, with people he didn't know, undergoing experiences that made him confused and probably a little frightened.

Straightening his shoulders, he announced, "Michael overruled his council, and has declared that no angels will be present at your meeting. He will also be calling a mandatory assembly of the Host simultaneous with it – any absences will be noted."

I whistled, impressed. Michael must have had his own suspicions about who had opened the Hellgate, and was openly declaring to any traitors on his staff that he was aware of their existence. Had to admit, dude had balls.

The local Gabriel frowned. "If I know my brother – and I do – then he's going to want representation at that meeting. There's no way he'd just let the course of the war, not to mention the fate of the world, be decided without a _witness_ from him, at the very least. How is he planning on that, if everyone has to show up to the assembly?"

Clearly uncomfortable, Castiel cleared his throat. "Um." He looked at Cas, and my immediate reaction – a mental _no fucking way_ that screamed across my brain – was apparently fervently prayer-like enough that both of them snapped their heads around to look at me, wards or not.

I hadn't said anything out loud, though, and the others took a little more time to figure it out.

"He can't possibly think no one will notice if our Cassie replaces yours," our Gabriel said. "They've spent the last human generation becoming completely different people."

"It is the compromise he is offering," Castiel answered. "He has been more accommodating to our multidimensional visitors thus far than I have ever seen him be in all of my existence, and he seems to expect this as his due in return." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, the motion awkward with its novelty to him.

"Cas? You OK with this?" I asked. He already knew how I felt about it, but the decision had to be his.

Cas shrugged as well, much more fluidly than his counterpart. "If this is what it takes to secure Michael's assistance."

Silence prevailed in the Haven, outside of the frustrated grinding of my teeth. Then came a burst of protest from half the room, with Bobby and the Harvelles keeping their opinions to themselves.

Eventually we all simmered down, mainly because Jack exerted his will on the room. "We're here for one reason and one reason only, guys. If both Castiels are willing, then this is what we have to do."

I sent Cas a panicked glance. We hadn't been separated for any appreciable amount of time since his return, and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to handle it gracefully.

He twined his fingers with mine and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before turning back to Castiel. "When is his assembly being held?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Does he require my presence prior to that, or can we make the switch immediately beforehand?"

"He did not specify, but minimum exposure to the others is crucial if this plan is going to work. I suggest immediately beforehand."

I turned back to Castiel. "Lucifer thinks our Cas is dead, so he's gonna know you're the local version. Not sure if that makes it safer, or more dangerous for you."

"I will assume it offers me a measure of mercy at his hands, as much as he is capable of, but I do not believe it will come down to him against me. This is Jack's sortie, after all."

He turned back to our Nephilim, who gave us all a reassuring grin. "I've got this, you guys. Even if it doesn't go according to plan, I feel completely confident that I can keep him from hurting anyone else."

Sam and I exchanged suspicious squints, then each gave Jack full-bore disapproval. I didn't care for Jack's tone. He seemed to be implying that it didn't matter if _he_ was hurt. In fact, he almost sounded like he was expecting it. I was reminded of why I'd been against this plan from the beginning.

"You're not gonna take any unnecessary risks, right?" I asked him. "If it falls apart, we get the hell outta Dodge and try somethin' else."

He shrugged. "I know, I'm your ticket home." It was an echo of his statement the first day we met, and even I wasn't prepared for how it triggered me.

Rage shot through me, sudden and fierce, motivating enough that I detached myself from Cas and seized Jack's shoulders.

"Do you really think that's all you are? Really? After all this time?" My fingers dug into his shirt, and I held his gaze, refusing to let him look away. "Because if you do, I've failed you completely, and there's no way you're goin' out there tomorrow."

I could tell the second he dropped the joke, because his eyes lit up, glowing golden in his too-thin face, and his grin broke through the mask of indifference he'd put on. "I just love it when you go all chick-flick, Dean."

"Son of a bitch," I growled, giving him a final shake for good measure before shoving him away. "I'm blaming you for that one," I told our Gabriel as the rest of the room dissolved into relieved laughter. "He used to be such a good kid."

Gabe grinned unrepentantly, and even managed to look a little proud of himself.

Castiel seemed bewildered. "What just happened?"

Cas shot me a glance, then tried to explain human feelings to a being who'd been born without them. "Jack was seeking reassurance that Dean cares for him, on the eve of a dangerous situation. Humans – particularly male ones – can sometimes be reluctant to express their emotions to each other."

He broke off, and his mouth quirked in a wry grin. "In your perusal of my memories, you might have noticed that Dean suffers from this affliction most acutely."

Castiel gave an earnest nod, which made my traitorous brother laugh even harder.

While the rest of the room worked on collecting themselves, Cas stepped closer so that only Castiel and I could hear his next words. "Jack also played on one of Dean's deepest insecurities, relating to fatherhood and child-raising."

 _Damn. Well played, angel._

Delicate arms wrapped around me from behind, and my mother pressed her cheek into my back. "I think you did a wonderful job, honey. He _is_ a good kid."

"Jeez, does _everyone_ know about my daddy issues?" But I put my hands over hers and pressed into the hug, letting her assurances put balm on my constantly festering inferiority complex. She'd never known the John that I had – he'd been a regular guy who'd never killed anything in his life before she was taken from us.

In the meantime, the two Gabriels had gotten into a disagreement over nomenclature.

"No way, why would _you_ get to be Gabriel-A? This is _my_ planet, _I_ should get to be Gabriel-A! _You_ should be Gabriel-B."

"No, wait. I want _Gabriel Prime_. You can keep the A, Gabe- _Apocalypse World_."

Sam stood between them, hands raised as if to keep them from an actual physical altercation. They glared at each other, and the rest of the room focused on what might turn into an archangel throwdown, surreptitiously glancing around and determining which piece of furniture they'd dive for if the tension exploded, wards or no wards.

And then two sets of lips twitched, and they both started snickering. "I'm sorry," Alt-Gabe said through the laughter. "I haven't talked to anyone in decades, so my people skills are rusty."

Our Gabe shrugged the apology off. "I've been dead for several years myself."

And that set them both off again, until they were each howling, leaning their foreheads against Sam's shoulders for support. Sam towered over them, a bemused behemoth unsure where to put his hands.

* * *

Cas and his counterpart spent the night in deep communion, figuring out what differences remained between them and how to fake it if someone got suspicious.

"He walked me through what he thought would be the important parts of his memories, so that I would know who had died and how," Cas told me, when it was time for him to go and everyone gave us a few minutes for a private goodbye. The two of them had traded clothes, and the tan trench coat draping his thin shoulders socked me right in the gut all over again.

"And he's sure that his brother won't turn on you? We both know he's capable of it, going by our _last_ rodeo."

"Our Michael was eager for war, whatever the cost. This Michael has seen that cost and is willing to learn from it. Besides, if he does not actually deserve the faith that his own Castiel has in him, and something does go wrong, you know where to find me. I still carry my lady's blessing, so we should have no trouble convincing her to let me go once more."

He attempted a lascivious eyebrow-wiggle. It was adorable, but it made me realize how short our time was.

"Speaking of her blessing, I wish we'd had a chance to act on it one more time before you leave. I don't know how I'm gonna handle you being gone again."

His expression turned shifty – not that anyone but me would notice, but I knew my angel pretty well by now, and I'd promised myself I wouldn't miss any more of his subtle cues. "What?" I asked, trying not to sound too accusatory.

He went from shiftiness to outright panic, and I had to reach up the hand that wasn't clinging to his to pull his bottom lip out from between his teeth.

"C'mon, Cas. We're headin' into a Boss Battle in a few minutes, so whatever it is, it can't be _that_ bad by comparison, right?"

"It seemed like an innocent idea at the time, but now that I am faced with telling you about it, I am having doubts. I do not want to hurt you right before we part."

My face went still, but inside I nursed a tiny, vicious relief. At least I wasn't doing _all_ the screwing up in this relationship. Anything he'd managed to do in the few hours during the night when he was alone with Castiel couldn't … compare to … _wait a second…_

I don't think my face changed, but he must have caught _something_ , because a hurried explanation spilled from his lips. "This Castiel asked about our lady and her blessing, as it was the only discernable difference between our vessels, even though you really have to look closely to notice it."

I could picture it: the two of them as we'd left them when we'd all gone to bed last night, sitting close beside each other on the bench in the main room, knees touching, identical heads turned down and tilted at the same angle, dark tumbled hair catching the weak light. I figured I knew where this was going – and I was far more okay with it than I probably should be – but the asshole in me wanted him to squirm a bit longer.

"Well, he asked how it felt. The act of it, I mean. He has experienced a range of emotions, thanks to our transference, but he understands that modern humans prefer to be private about their sexual experiences, so he has avoided going over my memories of our intimate encounters."

Cas paused to gauge my reaction, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, struggling to keep my face a blank. Encouraged by my lack of a negative reaction at the very least, he soldiered on.

"When I could not adequately convey the sensations in words, he asked to witness the act. I objected to waking you, as humans require uninterrupted sleep to function, but he said my own reactions would be sufficient. You and I had just had that discussion regarding the absurdity of jealousy in this context, so I convinced myself that you would not object. We exited the Bunker, so that we did not wake anyone-"

Mmmm, that did it. I couldn't hold back my grin any longer. Since his lady had come through for me, we'd discovered that Cas, like Dumbledore when the Aurors tried to arrest him, was not inclined to _come quietly_.

"He said it … was … fascinating …" Cas trailed off, frowned, then gave me a suspicious squint as the edges of my arousal got transmitted as a prayer, hard as I tried to throttle it back. "You are not upset with me." The squint widened in shock. "You are enjoying the thought of he and I…"

I tensed my right thigh muscle as hard as I could, trying to redirect blood. Now was _definitely_ not the time, what with everyone standing in an awkward knot as far from us as they could get and still be inside the Bunker's wards, waiting for us to finish up so that we could all go and face down Lucifer.

Castiel glanced over from his conversation with Sam and both Gabriels, as if he felt me looking. And then he smirked at me. Actually smirked. If Cas could sense my distraction, then that meant he could, as well. _Oooh, that sneaky bastard!_

I turned back to Cas. "Are we sure he's only gettin' transference from you? Because that move was straight outta the Dean Winchester Playbook. He finessed you like a Fender Stratocaster."

"This isn't funny, Dean," he said, needled into using a contraction, frown growing proportionately to my grin. "We do not have time to consider the implications of it right now, but it could be very serious."

He was right, of course, but that didn't keep me from laughing. "We can deal with it later, Cas. When you get back." I didn't say _if_. I refused to acknowledge the possibility of _if_.

 _That_ seemed to remind him we were supposed to be saying goodbye, and he re-tightened his grip on my hand. "Goodbye, Dean. Don't. Die." It was a fierce whisper but also a command. He kissed me hard, took two steps backward out of the wards, and vanished, leaving my hand clinging to open air.

"Finally," drawled our Gabriel, striding over and giving me a hard slap on the back. "Don't get me wrong, Dean-O, I'm glad the two of you finally pulled collective heads out of collective behinds and admitted you were pining for each other, but you have to admit you used to get shit done a lot quicker before."

* * *

"So," declaimed Jack, clapping his hands and then rubbing them together in apparent relish, "are we ready to get this show on the road?"

When we'd arrived at his chosen battlefield, a little league baseball diamond in what used to be a park, he'd arranged us in a defensive V with himself at the apex: home plate. Sam and I were on either side of him, Sam flanked by both Gabriels and me with the angel that only looked like mine at my left.

Mom and Bobby were past Castiel on my side of the V. The Harvelles had opted not to be part of the confrontation, but they were armed with some of Bobby's anti-angel equipment and were prepared to provide backup from the shelter of a hastily warded defunct snack bar not too far off.

I gave Castiel a quick glance to see if he'd object to Jack's idiom, but he shrugged it off. There hadn't been time on the walk over for the chat I'd wanted concerning his actions the previous evening, but I'd managed to warn him about taking stupid risks just because he now knew where he'd go if he died. His grace was tied to Cas's, and I wasn't going to let either of them be dragged to a different plane just because this Castiel was Borg-infected with Winchester-confidence.

"Ready as we'll ever be," this world's Gabriel said, nervousness bleeding through his carefree façade. "Let's have a big ol' family reunion."

Jack shook his head, favoring me with a bright smile. "He may be my father, but he ain't my daddy," he quoted, and I swear I almost cried. While I was still trying to figure out how to respond, he whipped the amulet off and shoved it into his pocket.

We all had just enough time to take a collective deep breath, and then a tornado-swirl of dirt coalesced on the pitcher's mound with a sudden roar, making our ears pop, and then Lucifer was there, still wearing the widower from Delaware that he fell back on every time he got booted from any attempted upgrades.

Nothing jumped us from behind, so it seemed safe to assume that our angels had successfully predicted Lucifer's prejudices. Or he could just be having them wait and take us off guard. No way to tell, with him.

His face was more serious than I'd ever seen it, and he only had eyes for Jack. "Hiya, kid," he rasped after a full minute. "Looks like I missed a lot." He finally spared the rest of us a glance, if only to include us in his punchline. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

We'd all agreed to follow Jack's lead on this, so when he remained silent, the rest of us did, too. Lucifer didn't seem to mind, shrugging dismissively and stalking to Bobby's end of the line to face him and Mary. "I knew they'd be back for you," he told her. "Only reason why I didn't order my minions to overrun your stupid Haven months ago."

Her only response was a sweet smile.

He sauntered a few steps further into the V, pausing again in front of Castiel and me. "Well, well, well. I'm pretty sure I killed ours the last time we met – sorry, Dean, you know how I hate being thwarted – so that must mean you've hooked up with _this_ Universe's version of my little brother. You do seem to have a type."

I had to fight back my startle reflex when Castiel reached over and laced his fingers with mine. He gave the analogue of his brother a defiant nod but stayed silent.

I was trying to figure out what the Hell he was thinking, but Lucifer caught his drift first. "Wow, got this one to choose humans over Heaven, too? And you've only been here, what, three days? New record! I'm assuming you convinced Michael to let you be representative here while they're having their big diversion disguised as a meeting upstairs? I'll admit, it's a relief to know the Heavenly Horde isn't lurking behind a cloud somewhere, just waiting to smite me."

So he was admitting to having spies in Michael's camp. And to show that we weren't fooling him either, he gave a casual wave at the distant snack stand as he turned past Jack to Sam and the Gabriels.

"Now _this_ is a surprise, I must say. One Trickster tricked Death, and one pulled from his panic room? I get the best of both worlds!" For the first time, his face showed something other than his usual sadistic glee, and his hands twitched at his sides, as if they wanted to reach out and clasp his brothers by the shoulders.

"I'm really sorry I had to kill you, back in our Universe," he said to both of them, apparently unable to tell which was his. "I wouldn't have done it, but you were picking the wrong side. And now you're doing it _again_." His burning gaze flicked to Sam and back. "I guess _everyone_ has a type."

Dismissing them, he gave Sam his turn at undivided attention. After a few seconds, he let out a wistful sigh. "What a shame you're so sanctimonious. We could have done great things together."

Sam's face turned red, and the grinding of his teeth was audible, but he managed to keep any snarky rejoinders or Harry Potter references to himself.

"Nothing? Wow, kid, you've got them all trained pretty good." He finally faced Jack, resting his fists on his hips. "What'd you use? Torture? Temptation? I know you're powerful, I felt it the second you came into being, and the second you ripped a hole back through to me, but I'm powerful, too, and even _I_ didn't possess the ability to make any of the present company just Shut. The Fuck. Up."

He blinked, then waved a hand at Castiel. "Excluding him, of course. As far as I can tell from this me's memories, he's always been an exemplary little brother, if annoyingly pro-human. I'd tell him he's free to go, but seeing as he's already been Winchestered, I know he'll just stay anyway."

He stepped closer, raising a hand to cup Jack's cheek. "Which just leaves you. Have you been Winchestered, too? They've taken so much from me. Have they also taken the only thing that's truly mattered since I lost Heaven?"

And here we reached the moment of truth. Where it came down to Nature vs. Nurture, with the fate of the entire multiverse in the balance.

Jack's power flared gold along his skin and gathered in his eyes, glowing hot as he stared up at the being who'd fathered him by giving his mother a death sentence, whose grace had given him life – and a lifetime of bad memories and nightmares. Castiel's hand squeezed mine as the tension pulled everyone's postures as tight as hipster jeans.

Then Jack's hand came up, and pressed Lucifer's harder into his cheek as his eyes slid closed. "Hello, Father," he said hoarsely. "It's nice to meet you at last. My name is Jack."

Anguish settled on Lucifer's features. It was a weird look for him, not one I'd ever seen in all our dealings, even when he'd met his own father and been disappointed by him yet again. "Nice to meet you, too, Jack. At least they taught you manners. What else did you get?"

Jack opened his eyes and let his hand drop, but didn't step away, and Lucifer didn't move. It almost looked like he couldn't.

"Same thing they've been fighting for all along, Father. Free will."

Lucifer let out a Sam-scoff, which briefly fractured my reality. When I'd clawed it all back together again, Lucifer was drawling, "So you're saying that if you wanted, you could join up with me, take on the entire multiverse, and abandon _these people_ ," his nose wrinkled in disdain, "to their fates."

Nodding, Jack said, "I could. If I wanted. I don't want."

Now it was Lucifer's turn to drop his hand and take a step back of his own, suddenly put on his guard. "What is it that you _do_ want, then?"

"We'll get to that in a minute. Let's start with what _you_ want."

Lucifer's face went completely blank in shock. He shot the rest of us a quick glance, maybe checking for outraged horror, but when our only reaction was indulgent silence, he focused on his son again.

"No one has ever asked me that before. And I mean, e _ver._ "

"So take your time to think about it. Remove taking vengeance on your father's creations from the picture – your only motivation for that was to get his attention, but now you know he's not worth it – what is it that you actually _want_? Do you really want to rule the multiverse alone? Or have you been at war long enough?"

"I-" He cut himself off, darted a glance at the Gabriels, bit his lip. "I honestly have never thought about it."

I really thought we had him, that it really would be that easy, but then his stance firmed up and his usual expression of haughty scorn returned. "Hang on. I spent _millennia_ plotting vengeance and hating humanity. Thousands of years, locked in a box with nothing to keep me company but my unending rage, and you expect me to, what? Go to yoga, take a few anger management classes, drive you to your soccer games on weekends, blue skies from now on?"

Jack was unmoved. "Don't see why not, if that's what you want. Just let it all go. Not like we're going to force you to keep trying to kick off the end of the world as we know it. Funny you should mention yoga, though; Dean led a yoga class for us just yesterday morning."

"Sure, sure." Lucifer's grin twisted cynically to one side as he flicked a contemptuous glance in my direction. "Dean Fricking Winchester Himself will correct my mountain pose. And then he'll stab me in the back the minute I let my guard down."

"He won't. Because he loves me, and he knows that's not what I want."

Lucifer's face went blank again. This was the longest he'd ever spent in our company where he wasn't absolutely right about the whole back-stabbing thing, so I could understand where he was coming from, but Jack was right, too. I didn't trust Lucifer as far as I could throw him, but I trusted Jack.

"Are you answering the question now? What do _you_ want?"

"I want to get to know my _father_ ," Jack said, voice edging into sharpness. "I know you're more than the being you are in the memories you left. That all changed when you decided to make _me_."

Lucifer wavered – we all saw it – and bit his lip. His eyes flicked to the rest of us, then back to Jack. "I don't play well with others."

Jack snorted a laugh. "Refrain from unnecessary torture or murder, and I think we'll all get on fine. You'd be surprised – or maybe you wouldn't, you've got siblings, too – how often they hurt each other without any evil influences at all."

Despite the drama of the situation, I chanced a glance at Sam. He caught it, and gave me a half-shrug. We'd raised a wise kid, apparently.

"I'm not saying you'll all trust each other right away. That miracle is beyond even my powers. All I'm asking is that we try."

Lucifer's anger reared up again. "And if I fail to measure up? What, you stick me back in the Pit with our Michael and his half-Winchester for another millennium? Not much of a choice. How much of a trial run are you going to grant me, before you inevitably decide I'm not _'good'_ enough?"

His air quotes were fluid, and socially acceptable, and made the still-healing hole inside me ache the slightest bit. _Just a little longer_ , I told myself, flexing my fingers where they interlocked with the wrong angel's.

He seemed taken aback when Jack laughed again. "You've _met_ the Winchesters, right? You're aware of what _family_ means to them?" He paused, darted a glance at me, straightened his shoulders a bit, and corrected himself. "To _us?_ "

Lucifer swayed a little, apparently wounded at Jack's word choice. Jack jumped at the opening.

"Couldn't _this_ be what you want? To be a family again? You've been on your own, fighting and hating and being angry, for _so long_ , but you remember what it used to be like, don't you? Remember being a part of something bigger than yourself? Isn't that why you made me in the first place?"

The broad shoulders facing me twitched, as if they could already feel a knife sliding between them, and his deceptively smooth voice was rougher than I'd ever heard it. "I made you for _me_ , to try and understand why my father loved humans so much. I never intended to _share_ you."

"That's what love _is_ , Father! I'm not a toy or a tool, I'm a _being_. I have likes and dislikes, and hopes and dreams, and sharing them with my family is the greatest thing there is, in this or _any_ universe!"

Jack stepped forward, grabbed his father's hand, and clasped it to his heart. "Please. For me, and for yourself. Try it on, see if it fits. If you don't like it, I promise I will find a universe where you can go and be alone. I won't let them put you back in the Pit, but I won't let you destroy everything, either."

Those proud shoulders sagged just a little. "A universe to be alone in? That's just a different kind of prison, isn't it?"

"Those are the options. I don't see any other way that doesn't involve one of us destroying the other, and I really _really_ don't want that."

"But you'll take me with you? Back to our universe?" He bit his lip, cleared his throat, fought to let himself have just a single ray of hope for the first time in eons of darkness, and started again. "While we try?"

Jack beamed, eyes lighting up as he realized his victory. "Yes! I need to repair this one first, but when we leave, you will come, too, one way or another."

"What about this universe's version of me? And of Michael?"

"We will negotiate with Michael for the end of the war here. We're hoping he's more easily convinced than the one on our end."

"You've already met with him, I know you have, and the only reason the Host didn't show when you removed the amulet is because he called a meeting so that they couldn't. What kind of deal did you make with my brother? That's the one thing he didn't reveal to anyone."

"You're lookin' at it," Jack replied with a shrug. "I asked that he and the Host leave us be while we worked it out, seeing as you're ours, and not his, anyway. In return for his noninterference, I promised the end of his war, one way or another."

Lucifer looked thoughtful, then nodded. "Seems about right, for him. And _his_ Lucifer?"

Jack's mouth twisted up on one side. "Have you noticed a drift, maybe, in your disposition, starting when you arrived here? Making you more resigned to war, less angry at well-meaning humans when they cross you?"

Silence, then a slow nod.

"We have some theories about that. After a year here, your grace has probably reached some sort of equilibrium between the two of you. Come back with us, learn what this whole _love_ thing is about, and when you've made enough progress, I'll bring you back, and you can share it with him. Until then, it's probably best he stays where you put him."

Another nod, then he took his hand back and turned to face the rest of us. "Well," he said, giving his hands a brisk clap. "If we're going to do this, I guess I owe several of you some pretty serious apologies."

"Don't say anything you don't mean," Jack said from behind him. "Honesty is the first step if we're all going to work on trusting each other."

Lucifer took a second to think about that, eyes roaming over Sam and me in turn, before quirking his mouth. "Sorry I'm not sorry, I guess, for what I did to you guys. Yet. Give me some time."

I shrugged back. I wasn't sorry, either. There was a long road behind us, and we had a long, long way to go.

He moved over to the Gabriels. "Which one of you is mine?"

Our Gabe glanced at Jack, who gave him an encouraging nod. "You mean, which one of us did you actually physically stab through the chest? That'd be me, then."

Lucifer gave in to the impulse he'd restrained upon arrival, and took his brother by the shoulders. "I _am_ sorry – truly, deeply sorry – for thinking my own revenge was more important than your life. As you've probably noticed, it's something I need to work on. It's like a miracle – a real one, nothing to do with our father – that I've been given this chance to make it up to you. I hope that, in time, you can learn to forgive me."

It was the most baldly honest statement I'd ever heard out of him, assuming he meant it.

Gabriel looked properly shocked. "I'll work on it, too," he managed to respond after a few beats had passed. "I'm still beyond pissed at you, but the place I went, it wasn't so bad-"

He cut himself off with an undignified squawk as Lucifer pulled him into a fierce embrace. Sam and the other Gabriel looked alarmed, but our Gabe just relaxed into it and gave him a few awkward pats on the back. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get there. We're a family, after all."

Lucifer pulled away, and I was startled to see tears on his cheeks. " _Thank you_."

Then he stiffened. "Family," he murmured to himself, then spun back around to face me. "You," he said, jabbing a finger at my chest. It was a struggle not to flinch, but I held my ground. "How can you be so open to the idea of getting along with me? I took your Castiel from you! Why aren't you trying to murder me where I stand? I mean, the two of you were so co-dependent, how did you even _live_ this long without him?"

I gave him a grin, but I let my eyes show the depth of the hurt he'd done me, the gaping hole he'd ripped in my chest when he'd stabbed Cas through his. Castiel disengaged his fingers from mine, now that the need for the charade was over, and I stood alone and faced Lucifer.

Jack crossed his arms in the background, but didn't try to step in to defuse the situation. This needed to happen.

Lucifer's eyes went wide. "How did you survive _that_?"

"Love, Lucifer," I told him, trying not to feel too smug. "And the responsibilities that come with it. You'll find out, eventually. Jack will make sure of it."

He looked chastened, another emotion I'd never seen on him, but Jack spoiled the novelty. "Dean," he warned, "honesty, remember?"

I threw my hands up in mock frustration. "Alright, _fine_. We got him back a few days ago, okay? At the same time we got Gabriel. We busted into another realm, and we all strolled out together. He's babysitting Michael, making sure he holds to his end of our deal, and _honestly,_ I can't wait 'til we sort this out and I can get him back."

Leaning in, I spoke directly into his ear for fullest effect. "And then we're going to _shag_. Like fuckin' _bunnies_."

"There might be such a thing as being _too_ honest," he said, pulling away and wrinkling his nose. "But what about all your macho bullshit? Last time we interacted, you were so painfully awkward, I wanted grab you both by the back of the head and smush your faces together."

"Yeah, and then you took him away from me. Kinda put things into perspective. Maybe I should _thank you for it_." I tried to keep my tone light, but had to finish my sentence through clenched teeth.

"Let's not go crazy. We'll call it an issue and work on it, yeah?" He offered his hand.

I looked at it, callused and in need of moisturizer, and thought of all the things he'd done with it, all the people he'd killed. And then I thought of what I'd done in Hell. My hands weren't any cleaner than his. I took what he was offering and gave it a brisk shake.

My first act of faith in him on our new road together: trusting that he wouldn't use the opportunity to yank me forward and gut me like a fish. He justified it by holding on for the appropriate amount of time, and then disengaging and stepping back. It looked like he knew the extent to which I could be pushed. In our new détente, I'd have to keep reminding myself how expert a manipulator he was.

He turned to Jack for any ideas on what to do next. Jack made a fluid gesture in Sam's direction. Lucifer gave him what were probably supposed to be pleading eyes, but Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "At least say _something_ to him, Father. You did literally torture him to insanity, after all. There's going to be a lot of awkward silences in our future if you don't break the ice now."

Sam's mouth was a thin, pinched line.

Lucifer, to his credit, did _not_ heave a childish sigh. Instead, he squared his shoulders, and stepped closer to Sam, careful not to get _too_ close. He established eye contact, and held it for almost a minute, apparently not wanting to rush into this.

"Like I said, I can't honestly apologize to you, you know I'd only be saying it to make Jack happy, so I'd appreciate the chance to apologize in the future, when I might actually mean it. Can we start with, I promise I won't hurt you any _more_?"

There was a stretch of silence, but Lucifer was patient for once. He didn't push or prompt, he just waited, until my brother finally forced a breath out through his nose and gave a short nod.

Neither of them offered a handshake, but Jack looked satisfied with the effort on both sides.

"Now that that's settled, what's our next step?" Lucifer asked, turning back to Jack. "You going to keep me on a short leash while you finish your business here?"

"Next step is settling the two armies. Call off your demons. If you want to meet with Michael and have peace talks, I can arrange that. If not, he'll probably get the idea once you vanish off the planet with us and leave Hell locked in a power struggle."

"So, when you say _call off my demons_ , you mean…?"

Jack's brow wrinkled. "I mean call them off, tell them the war's over. What's the confusion here?"

"You're letting me go back to my domain. That's the confusion. You've seen my memories, and I'm guessing the Winchesters have given you the Don't Trust Him talk. How can you just assume I'll ever come back?"

"Well, won't you?"

"Yes! But how can you … Ah." He stopped, and the agitation painting his features vanished in a split second. It would have been disconcerting, but we'd all witnessed his lightning mood shifts before. "This is Step One, is it?"

Jack grinned. "Trust works both ways. You said you're willing to give being a family a try. Until you give me a reason to doubt that, I'm clean-slating you." The grin fell away. "Just know: should you decide to return to your old habits, I _can_ stop you."

"Acknowledged. So I'm free to go? How can I contact you again? I'm assuming you don't want to wander around at full broadcast all the time, which is how I spotted you today."

"You can leave me a message here, I'll check back a few times a day. Let me know what you decide about meeting with Michael. Do you have any terms I can pass along in the meantime?"

Lucifer cupped his hand on Jack's cheek again, then backed away a few steps, until he was outside the V of good guys. "I'm going to need to think about it. This war was supposed to end with one side winning pretty definitively, so I don't think Michael will know what to do right away either. We're re-writing history, here, in more ways than one."

He swept a deep, almost-mocking, bow to everyone, drawled, "See you soon, kid," to Jack, and vanished in a whirl of grit.

The tension lingered for a few more seconds, and everyone eyed the Gabriels sideways. If Lucifer was still hanging around, Gabe would be able to tell.

A few more seconds, and our Gabriel's shoulders sagged as he released a deep breath. "I think we're clear, people. That went well, right? No one got stabbed, anyway."

This world's Gabriel had gone dangerously still, however. "And just when was anyone going to tell _me_ about the shared-grace thing, huh?"

A stab of apprehension shot down my back as everyone froze. _Shit, busted_.

Sam started stammering an excuse, but Alt-Gabriel broke and grinned. "Man, I had you going for a second there. Did you think I couldn't tell?" He turned back to our Gabriel and quirked a corner of his mouth up. "You show up, ask me to join you, I say thanks but no thanks, and then the next day my feelings go through a one-eighty? Yeah, I've been the Trickster too long to _not_ notice something like that."

Our Gabriel still looked unsure. "And you're okay with it? We just figured it out ourselves yesterday, if that helps."

"Honestly, Cassie here makes it really obvious to anyone actually looking. Especially when you put two of him in the same room. I've known my little brother a long time, and I know he was built to question, but he's never been this far along before."

He stepped up to Castiel, and wiggled his fingers at him. "It almost feels like you Fell, little brother, but you still have your wings and your grace. Last time I checked in, you were still following orders, and angels don't change overnight." He turned his golden eyes toward me. "Not without help, anyway."

The stab of apprehension came back, stronger this time, as Gabriel continued to frown at me.

Castiel stepped sideways to get between us, holding his hands up. "Please, Gabriel, do not blame them. They could not have known, and it cannot be helped anyway. I, for one, am not sorry about any of it."

"You wouldn't be," his Gabriel replied, "because they _brainwashed_ you just by showing up! Me, I feel like I haven't changed that much. Other Me, he's basically the same guy, but he made a choice instead of sitting on it, and then he was dead for a bit. But _you…_ "

He grabbed Castiel by the shoulders. "Can you remember what you were like even just _last week_? Can you remember that you were, if not happy, at least _content_ with your existence? They've _ruined_ that for you! There's no going back to that, even after they take their ball and go home!"

Castiel's eyes started to do that storm-cloud thing again. "Last week I was _blind_. Unaware that anything else was even _possible_. Unaware that Father is still out there, that he _wants_ this for me. Would you have me remain a foot-soldier forever, when I am capable of so much more?"

Gabriel threw his hands up. "But _why_ are you compelled to do ' _so much more'_? Why _you_?"

"Who else is there, brother? You said you knew I was built to question. Are there others like me, who should take up this burden in my place?" When Gabriel bit his lip and looked away, he continued, "I did not think so. This is my _purpose_! The other me, Dean's Cas, he _Fell_ , because he _believed_. Can I do any less?"

Gabriel looked inclined to argue further, and we were starting to get some strange swirling winds whipping around the erstwhile field as the argument got more heated, but a warm wave of power rolled over us, and we all turned to look at Jack.

"I have our Castiel's memories – which means I have yours, as well, up to a point – and while I admit there's a lot I haven't gone through in depth yet, I don't remember being all that close with Gabriel. No offense," he added. Both Gabriels returned dismissive shrugs. "So why are you so upset about the choices he's making?"

The Gabriels turned to each other with mirrored quizzical expressions, while Bill and Ellen climbed out of the snack stand and joined us. Mom and Bobby caught them up in hurried murmurs.

"Oh," said our Gabriel after a minute of the pair of them making thoughtful faces at each other. "Looks like that baggage came in with _me_. Sorry." He faced Castiel. "Apparently there's a lot I left unsaid with my own little brother. This shared grace is tricky business."

He turned back to the group, spreading his hands. "Can we get him back, then? Dean? I know _you're_ in."

* * *

Castiel's assessment of his oldest brother's good intentions turned out to be accurate. Jack put his amulet back on, and Cas reappeared at my side within minutes, looking a bit haunted.

"That was … uncomfortable," he said into the expectant silence. He turned to Castiel and pressed two fingers to his forehead. "Here is what I have witnessed. You should return before you are missed. The others will tell me about what has passed here. Report back to us when it seems safe."

Castiel vanished, wide-eyed, and Cas faced the group. I laced my fingers into his, flooded with sweet relief at his safe return as he told his story.

"I was standing with my garrison when Michael called the meeting to order and began speaking to us about a new development in the war. Then, we all felt it when Jack removed the amulet, and the meeting almost fell apart in a panic, but Michael shouted them down and made them pay attention.

"He explained about multiverses, about how this version of Lucifer did not belong here, and about how the Nephilim we were sensing had volunteered to assist. He left out who had fathered Jack, and that any other beings had come with him.

"They took to the idea of alternate worlds better than I had expected, but there seemed to be some resistance to working with a half-human. Everyone was shocked when he said he had already met with Jack, and that he anticipated a speedy resolution. The great hall filled with whispers, and he let them go on for a while. I spent most of that time avoiding Ishim's eyes.

"And then Jack's power went away, and everyone stopped talking, and looked some combination of angry and frightened. I am certain a vast majority of them had never experienced either of those emotions before.

"Michael actually looked smug. Into the new silence, he added that he would send updates through the garrison commanders, and by the way, please keep an eye on your fellows for possible treason, as he knows that Lucifer was released by some being or beings in the room at that moment. And then he dismissed us and left the dais while everyone was still stunned into immobility.

"I was concerned that I would need to remain, as departing at that point would have aroused suspicion, but all the garrison commanders unanimously decided to have a meeting of their own and told us we were free to go."

"Well, that's set the fox in the henhouse," growled Bobby. "Helluva way to break the news. What's he tryin' to accomplish?"

Our Gabriel looked almost awed. "Holy crows, he's tearing up the script! He has faith in Jack, so the war's already over for him."

Alt-Gabe was nodding. "Next step will be cleaning house. He'll want to ferret out the traitors before their lord abdicates, just in case y'all pull a reversal and release _our_ Lucy when you go. No need to leave him a standing army."

"How can he have so much faith in me, and so little in the rest of you?" asked Jack, forehead wrinkling.

"You said the magic words, back at your summit," said our Gabriel. "You reminded him of the old days, and there's only a handful of creatures who know what it used to be like." He glanced at Cas. "And the version of Cassie here has probably never disobeyed an order in his entire existence, so Michael had no reason to doubt him."

"But the rest of you are unknown quantities," said Alt-Gabe, picking the thread back up. "Michael doesn't know much about deceit, other than that it exists, so he's trying his best to safeguard against it."

The Gabes shrugged at each other. "Plus," said ours, "he probably checked out a bunch of possible future timelines, and maybe y'all let Lucy out in one of them, so he's aware of the option."

Ah, right. The angelic ability for non-linear time. My grip tightened in Cas's, remembering the fading hippie version I'd met when that asshat Zachariah had sent me forward, relishing how many different ways we'd averted _that_ particular situation.

The few times my nightmares didn't involve blood or death or pain, they conjured a human Cas who'd given up on himself, and it made me ache with despair down to the depths of my patched-up soul.

Jack and Cas spared me brief glances as I fought my way back to the present, but didn't comment. Instead, Cas offered his free hand to Jack. "Will you give me the short version of what happened here while I was with the Host?"

"Sure thing," Jack said, grinning, and took Cas's offered hand.

Cas blinked. "Ah," he said after a few seconds. "That seems to have gone well. And you are sure that he means to keep his word?"

Jack shrugged, aware that the rest of the group's attention had sharpened at the question. "He meant it at the time. I still believe that I mean more to him than the war he's been waging, but he does _hate_ you guys, specifically, and you raising me instead of him is going to be a burr under his saddle for a long time."

Bobby looked almost proud of the cowboy metaphor. "We can have this all out back at the Haven. Truce or no truce, I still don't like standin' out in the open like this."

There was a general murmur of agreement, and we all started moving back in the direction of home. I couldn't speak for anyone else, but I felt like a wrung-out dishrag after all the tension of Lucifer's visit, and I was looking forward to a nap, and maybe a drink, before I started feeling human again.

So when a bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of our group and, when we'd blinked away the afterimage seared into our retinas, the figure it had brought turned out to be Michael in his Young John Winchester meat suit, I think I can be excused for groaning, "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

Luckily, he didn't pay me any attention. "What has passed here between you and my younger brother, Nephilim Jack? You have not slain him, I would have felt it."

Jack gave him a disapproving frown, then proceeded to ignore him in favor of turning to Mary and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay with this? We can talk somewhere else if it's going to bother you."

Mom managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Thanks, sweetie. I knew this was a possibility."

Michael's face had darkened when Jack failed to respond to him immediately, but as he studied Mary, it turned thoughtful, then pained. One of his hands twitched.

"You are the human, Mary Campbell?" he asked.

Shocked at being addressed directly, Mom took a second to recover before smiling at the being wearing the man she'd married. "Mary _Winchester_. Since August 19th, 1975."

Michael's other hand, the one that wasn't twitching, rose up to press at his own temple, but he never took his eyes off of Mary. "I see. That explains his enthusiasm. He says you look just like _his_ Mary, and that you haven't aged a day."

Her smile turned upward in one corner. "Neither has he."

The twitching hand stilled as Michael exerted his will on his vessel. "This is the strongest emotional response I have ever felt from him, and we have not had an easy partnership, he and I."

 _Give 'em Hell, Dad_ , I thought, but kept it to myself, nursing a quiet glow of happiness that his soul had been resurrected along with his body before Michael had moved in.

"To answer your question," said Jack, now that he was satisfied that Mary would be fine, "I spoke with my father. He agreed to call the whole thing off, as long as he gets to go with us when we return to our universe."

The eldest archangel's dark eyebrows rose. "That's all? He had no demands to make of me?"

Jack shrugged. "He's just as new to this idea as you. Said he was going to have to think about it."

The brows drew together, and Michael gave a thoughtful nod. "I agree. Did he share with you what he did with our world's Lucifer?" There was an odd mix of hunger and fear in his eyes, and for a second I felt sorry for him, imagining what I would be going through if this were about _my_ younger brother, apparently missing in action and possibly dead for over a year.

Jack grinned. "He's in the Pit, where ours tossed him when he came through. We all agreed it was for the best that he remains there."

"I see."

A range of emotions flashed over Michael's face: relief, annoyance, curiosity. He finally settled on vague indignance. "How did he manage to overpower my brother, if they are the same being at heart?"

"Not _quite_ the same," said Jack. "Yours had never met a Winchester. Angels have to develop an entirely new skill set to deal with _us_."

Michael's face froze, and though I'd never seen the expression that grew there, I could guess it was one that a person got when someone else was laughing uproariously inside your head.

Apparently deciding to ignore it, he continued, "Well, that explains our Castiel, at least. I've never known him to choose anything over Heaven, until your group arrived here."

"Hey, hey, hang on," I said, drawing his attention for the first time since he'd arrived. "He's not choosin' anything over anything. As I see it, he's doin' you a favor, being a go-between like he is, puttin' himself at risk."

The cool look I got for my efforts rolled right off my hide. His disapproval couldn't hurt me, even if he _was_ wearing my father's face. Cas's hand in mine, and the pleased expression that I could see him wearing out of the corner of my eye, were all that mattered.

The cool look moved on to Cas. "That's one way to look at it, I suppose. I'm going to have to decide what to do with him, once you leave. It's clear he's being wasted as a foot-soldier. Maybe he needs a promotion. It looks like I'll have some spots to fill, after the traitors are rooted out."

He gave the group a final once-over, lingering on Mom the longest, and then vanished with another crack of lightning, without another word.

" _Such_ a drama queen," said Gabriel into the silence. Everyone startled a bit, nerves already on edge, as he and his counterpart popped back into our midst. I hadn't seen them leave, but since Michael hadn't remarked on there being two of them – or even one of them – I assumed they'd made themselves scarce at the instant of his arrival.

"Always has been, even when there was just the four of us," the other Gabriel agreed. For a minute, I couldn't tell which one was ours, but then we all started walking again, and one of them drifted a little closer to Sam without apparently meaning to. _Bingo_.

Sam gave him an encouraging nod, and he reversed angles and drifted toward Cas and me instead.

"Cassie, it seems we need to talk. Can I borrow you for a bit?"

* * *

Things moved fast after that.

Within a day, Lucifer had reported back, claiming he'd called everything off and quelled any dissidents Down Below, and asking for nothing from Michael but eventual forgiveness for both himself and his double.

Michael – by way of Castiel, as he was far too busy with his internal affairs to come and see us himself – agreed, and granted him the possibility of it. I was there when Jack told Lucifer the news. I'd never seen such a look of soft pleasure on his face when there wasn't any blood or torture involved.

The day after that, Castiel showed back up at the Haven and requested Sam. Michael had promoted him after all; he was in charge of the angels assisting with Jack's grand recovery effort. _All hand-picked for the project_ , he told us, but we all knew he meant, _all cleared by Michael as not secretly working for Lucifer_.

Sam was delighted, having taken a few trips with Gabriel to test his theories at elevations previously only available to scientists through weather balloons and remotely piloted submersibles, and began trying to explain to the Host about air currents and the Coriolis effect and -

Castiel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "They just need orders, please, Sam. Tell them what to do, and they will do it. They need structure, after the doubts and betrayals they have been through."

Sam took a second to look like Christmas had been cancelled, but swallowed it and switched into what I liked to call Leader Mode. Digging a tabletop globe out from Bobby's storage room, he broke down directions, elevations, and speeds, advising maximum surface area for increased drag.

I lost interest when he was tasking yet another group with seeding the atmosphere with moisture, and wandered off to help Bobby with making more bullets for the Colt. He was holding on to his wary edge around us, but I knew we'd wear him down eventually.

Bill and Ellen took off again, now that all the action had cooled down. They said they wanted to spread the word about the end of the war, and maybe that was true, but mostly I think they'd gotten used to the world having fewer people in it, and we were just a few too many for them to be comfortable hanging around with. She promised to make Jack that cake next time they were in town.

Jack pulled me aside to ask if he could spend some solo time with his father. I gave him my manliest hug, told him I trusted him, and let him go.

I heard a flutter as he walked away but didn't turn my head. Cas had been delighting in the return of his wings, using them at every opportunity, and taking a perverse pleasure in startling me. It made me remember how it used to be, back before the end of the world (the first time), when he'd pop up behind me and act all confused when I shouted at him.

It was a lot more adorable these days, and there was almost no shouting.

"I have been thinking further about the shared grace issue," he said, wrapping his arms around my middle and resting his chin on my shoulder. His exhalation on my neck and the tickling vibration of his growl in my ear made it extremely difficult to focus on what he was saying, but I put in the effort.

"Oh? Thought we'd got that all sorted."

"The basics between those of us in multiple universes, yes, but there is still you, who share my grace to some extent, and Jack, who received a portion of Lucifer's at the moment of his conception. I am not overly concerned about transference between us, but I _am_ wondering if Jack and Lucifer can affect each other."

"Hmm," I murmured, settling back against the solid wall of his chest. "That does seem worth thinking about."

"I have to hope that if a link does exist, it does not work quite the same way. If so, Jack is being pulled toward both Lucifers here at once. I know you brought him up and taught him well, but would that be sufficient?"

I thought about getting worried, but decided not to. "He's a solid kid. He had some problems with nightmares during his first year, but he always came back to me."

Cas was watching Jack's distant back as it got farther away. "If he does turn, we will not be able to stop him. We could not stop Lucifer even before he conceived a son, and if Jack joins him-"

"Not gonna happen, angel. He's got you in his head, too, remember?"

Cas's frown pressed into my cheek. "I have acquiesced to Lucifer in the past. I fail to see how my presence can affect _that_ decision positively."

It was my turn to frown, and I turned my angel to face me. Since he'd made his choice to return with us, I hadn't seen much of the hopeless, lonely creature he'd become in his Lady's realm, but every so often I got reminders like this. Reminders I would have missed or ignored, once, but no more.

"Hey, none of that, now. You said yes to him because you thought it was _literally_ your _only_ choice to save the _entirety_ of _existence_."

His eyes avoided mine, so I grabbed his chin. " _Hey_. No one blames you for it. We were out of ideas but didn't want to admit it, so you did what had to be done." I shook his face. Not gently, either. "Like you _always_ do. In all the time I've known you, you've never done anything you didn't believe in, no matter how hard it was. With right on your side, I'd put your will up against a _hundred_ Lucifers."

Those eyes were now suspiciously watery as they looked into mine, which weren't much better. He really did break my heart sometimes.

"I know no one's ever said it, so _thank you_. For _all_ the hard choices you had to make." I let his chin go in favor of putting my palms on his cheeks and holding his face still. "I meant what I said when I asked you to come home. You are worth _so much_ to me, to _everyone_ , and one day you'll be able to acknowledge that to yourself."

A single tear spilled down over one of my hands, and his whole frame trembled in my grip, but I didn't let go. I'd volunteered for this fight, and the _hell_ if I was backing down.

"Speakin' from experience, here, I know what is to feel like you failed everyone. I'm still workin' on being okay with myself. You choosing to come home, _with me_ , that was a huge step toward making me feel like I was worth somethin'. That someone like you, who only does what he feels is right, chose _me_ , the hopelessly guilt-ridden screw-up."

He took in a shaky breath, let it out slow, and then leaned forward to press his face into my chest. I carded my fingers through his hair and rubbed circles on his back. "I know it's not something you can accept overnight, but I'll never stop telling you, and some day, you might even believe me."

He turned his head to the side so he could speak without eating my shirt. "I came out here to speak of _you_ ," he said, half-laughing, half-sobbing. "I had not intended to bring up any of this, and now I am finding it difficult to stop … _leaking_."

"Welcome to the Wonderful World of Neuroses," I told him. "Or did you think your lady only gifted you with the positive stuff?"

He shook his head, smearing more fluids on my shirt. "If her original gift was empathy, then she would want me to have the full experience."

I nodded, feeling unaccountably wise. "She gave you the capacity for sadness, so that you could also enjoy happiness. I'm sure there's some proverb somewhere that sums it up, but you get the gist."

We leaned on each other for a little longer, steadying our breathing, as Jack vanished into the distance.

"Dude. We need _so much_ therapy."

He snorted a laugh. "As would any therapist who consented to see us."

* * *

We ended up hanging out in the Alt World for about six more months while Sam and Jack directed the Host and tried to save everything. Once they brought back the sun, and got regular weather patterns re-established, Sam had some concerns about mass extinctions – pollinators in particular – but Jack smiled and told him he could handle it.

He and Sam would choose a place where there'd been "a high concentration of biodiversity" or whatever, and then one of the angels would fly him there. I tagged along a few times – Cas claimed that the process was a spiritual experience for those who could witness it on all the levels, but I had normal eyes and it looked cool as heck to me.

Sam and our Gabriel came to watch as well, when Jack said he was ready to do a rainforest. Apparently, he'd been working his way up to it, to be sure he could do it right.

Our feet settled in the ashy remnants of a once-proud forest, the last few months of regular rain already calling forth little tendrils of green from the blasted earth. Jack settled cross-legged in a clear space, and the rest of us moved several hundred feet away.

It started slow. Jack removed his amulet and closed his eyes, open palms face-up and loose on his knees, and for a few minutes, nothing happened. Then we all felt a sort of tremble through the soles of our feet, as if the earth itself was doing a nice slow stretch after a long snooze.

Then came the cool part. Jack's skin lit up from within, casting golden shadows on all the broken stumps and scuffed dirt. Everything touched by his light soaked it in, bathed in it, until even the greyest and most dead-looking husks were glowing in their own right, tinged green now. The greenish glow spread in a widening ring, startling us as it passed us by and kept going.

"He must be getting stronger," I murmured to Sam. "Last week, _this_ was a safe distance."

Sam nodded. "There's a whole lot more to work with here than in the middle of a cornfield," he whispered back. Neither of us wanted to break the awed silence that hung over everything.

Jack's glow intensified, and little pinpricks of red light began to dot the area in irregular clusters. I gave myself a swift once-over to make sure none had showed up on my own skin, but the humans and human-shaped creatures all looked clear. Satisfied, I lost myself in the beauty of the scene, bathing in the glow a little myself. It kind of felt like Cas to me, and my soul resonated with it like a struck bell.

He kept it up for a few full minutes, and several more colors bled into the mix of lights, forming shapes and breaking apart, dancing with each other. Streaks of cool green shot into the air and blossomed like fireworks high overhead, weaving their way back to the ground in intricate patterns.

The air grew busy and warm, full of joyful whispers and chirps as pink and blue shapes swung and flitted and slithered in all directions. Even the earth was active, churning gently and glittering silver beneath our feet.

On a tangible level, the tender green shoots I'd noticed when we'd landed looked stronger, healthier, and the burned stumps had lost their greyish tinge. Even the soil looked richer.

Eventually we all saw his distant shoulders slump, and the glow faded, sinking into the ground and vanishing. I knelt and slid my fingers into the loose dirt, feeling a lingering warmth and sending up miniscule sparks of gold. Sam put his hand on a tree that had broken off at head-height and received the same result.

We all let out a collective breath, a silent _wow_ , and jogged back to Jack's side.

"That was amazing, kid. You okay?" I asked when I was close enough to be heard without shouting. Not being a Nephilim, I had no concept of what all this was costing him, but he never did anything halfway. He'd probably give up his last spark if it meant saving this world.

He lifted his head like it was heavier than usual and gave us all a dreamy smile. "That was _awesome_!"

Cas and Gabriel situated themselves on either side of him and hoisted him to his feet, supporting him as he swayed a bit. I shot Cas a raised eyebrow, but he gave me a quick smile and nod in return, so I wasn't too concerned.

That all changed when Lucifer popped up behind him. Then I got concerned real quick. Even the soft look of awe on his face didn't put me at ease.

He put a hand on Jack's shoulder. Cas let go as Jack swung around, though Gabriel held on, giving Jack a shoulder to lean on as he faced his father.

"What did I just watch, here?" Lucifer asked, ignoring everyone else as usual. "I've never felt anything like it."

Jack's smile was a little guarded, but it was still warm and welcoming. They'd been spending a few hours together at least twice a week for the past several months, and Jack implied that some progress was being made.

"You came!" he said now.

"Yeah, well, this one was kind of hard not to notice. You've been all over the map lately, but those were peanuts compared to whatever just went down. I'm honestly impressed you don't have angels raining down on your butt right this second."

Jack laughed. "I'm sanctioned by Michael himself to do whatever I want, as long as it's for the greater good. And _this_ ," he waved the arm that wasn't wrapped around Gabe's shoulders in an encompassing gesture that took in the healthier landscape, "is just setting some guidelines for what's to come."

Lucifer's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Care to explain further?"

We all glanced at Sam, who usually started spouting off about biomes and microbes at this point, but Sam shook his head. "I know the science, and the desired outcome here, but what Jack did? That's outside my ability to explain."

It was the politest thing he'd managed to say to Lucifer so far, and Jack glowed at him, not having replaced his amulet yet.

"A lot of things died out when the war blasted the earth," Jack told Lucifer. "We can get the plants to grow again, but without the birds and the bees and things, this world will never be able to support any sort of animal population. All I'm doing is donating some energy to pull the pollinators – and everything else – back from the beyond."

Lucifer gave our mostly barren surroundings a pointed glance before raising his eyebrows at his son.

Jack shrugged. "It's on a timer. For instance, there's no good in pulling back the populations of howler monkeys when there's no trees for them to hang out in; they'd all get eaten by leopards. It's going to take several hundred years for this place to even get enough of a canopy to get the right amount of rain. All I can do is lay out the road map. As you are probably aware, my grandfather reserved the power of actual creation for himself."

The wicked grin we'd all come to dread in another lifetime reappeared on Lucifer's face. "Oh, I don't know about all _that_. Us first-born have a few tricks up our sleeves. Right, Trickster?"

Gabriel grinned back. He and his doppelgänger had both done their own visiting with Lucifer over the past few months, re-establishing the age-old bond that Lucifer had shattered when he chose to Fall. Alt-Gabriel said he figured it counted for his as well, stuck in the Pit but still able to feel the transference.

Now it was Jack's turn to frown in confusion. "I know you made _me_ , but I thought he was pretty clear on the whole ' _Only I can bring light'_ schtick."

"Light to the Darkness, yes." Lucifer spared a glance at Cas, who had tensed up at the reference, before looking back at Jack. "But that bit's already done. Any fool can follow a road map. Care to assist, brother?"

"Are you calling me a fool?" Gabe said, but his grin had widened. He gently unwrapped Jack's arm from his shoulders and passed him to Cas before cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms above his head. He jogged from foot to foot a few times, took in a deep breath, and we all heard the fluttering of great wings as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

"Alright, let's do this."

Sam bit his lip against a token protest and moved with the rest of us to a safer distance as the two archangels knelt and threaded long, agile fingers into the dirt Jack had so recently reanimated.

The Nephilim himself seemed to be recovering nicely, keeping a hand on Cas's shoulder to steady himself as he leaned forward, trying to see.

"On three?" Lucifer asked.

Gabriel nodded. "Try not to strain anything, old man."

Lucifer counted off as we watched, frozen in anticipation, and when he hit _three_ , light burst from both sets of eyes and lit up under their skin like beacons. Spending time with angels, getting to know them as personalities, it was easy to forget that they were so much _more_ than humans, compressed and stuffed into tiny packages.

The light flowed into the ground, streaming past us even more smoothly than Jack's ring had. Both archangels had their heads thrown back in what looked like ecstasy as the ground trembled, then shook, then vanished beneath our feet.

Shocked, it took me a few beats to figure out that Cas had managed to grab ahold of all three of us non-winged spectators and lift us into the air, and not a moment too soon.

The earth split in hundreds of places, shoots stabbing into the air, twisting and darkening as they solidified into bark-covered trunks that swelled in height and girth, splitting and branching as they raced up toward our dangling feet. The ground came alive, green and grey and brown and gold almost to the horizon in all directions.

I shifted in Cas's iron grip, trying to find a position that would both let me see what was happening below us and shift Sam's bony elbow away from where it was digging into my ribs. Cas made a displeased noise and squished us harder. Jack was nearly as tall as me by this point, so it's not like we were small men that he was dangling aloft at dangerous heights.

And then there was another set of wingbeats close by, barely audible over the creaking and groaning from below, and another set of hands was extracting me.

"What-? Oh, hey! Thanks."

Sam and Jack glanced away from the spectacle to nod at the newcomer as Cas re-arranged them more comfortably, and Castiel smiled back at us all, an arm wrapped around my waist as he hovered in place beside his double.

"Hello, Winchesters. Michael sent me to see what was occurring here."

"I am surprised he did not come himself," Cas replied, a little more sharply than was warranted. "It is not like he could fail to distinguish Lucifer's energy, even from his distance."

Castiel's face went blank, and I could tell he was wondering again how he had managed to offend. "Yes, and Gabriel's as well. He instructed me to observe and report, but not to get involved. He is very busy. Surely you remember what it took to run Heaven?"

Cas looked stricken, and we three cargo-packages winced as the tension ratcheted up as fast as the new trees. I remembered how much of Cas's time had been consumed when he'd been in charge, how little we'd seen of him, and how ragged he looked when he did manage to make time for us.

"Samwich, I set up the microclimate patterns under the canopy, like you-"

Gabriel cut himself off mid-sentence, a unique occurrence, after popping up in our midst. "Yikes," he added, taking in the atmosphere. It was getting humid above the trees as they started doing their thing, but the storm clouds that were gathering were a bit premature, no matter what miracle the archangels had worked.

"Anyway, Lucifer says y'all can come back down, the dramatic bit's done. We've got to work out the river situation, but other than that, this area should be marked on the map as 'restored.'"

I blinked, and there was suddenly solid ground beneath my feet again. Castiel released me and put space between us as Cas and Gabe also hit the ground between one second and the next. He learned fast.

Gabriel smashed the awkward silence to pieces by slinging an arm over the shoulders of both versions of his little brother. "Can't you boys just kiss and make up? You're not so different, you know, and the longer we stay, the less different you get."

Cas shrugged a little and attempted a smile. It fell a little short, but the effort was noted. "I think that makes it worse, Gabriel," he said. "It was easier when he was less like me."

Ah, so it was a self-loathing issue. Those were tricky, especially when his _self_ was in two bodies and he could loathe them both at the same time.

I was wondering if either of them were going to address the " _kiss and_ " part of Gabriel's little speech when Lucifer chimed in again. "I'm glad we're all so self-aware, but can we skip the group therapy session? _Exploring feelings_ wasn't on my to-do list today. He should report back before we're all pre-emptively smited."

Jack shot him a quelling look, but reluctantly agreed. "I feel bad saying it, but we can talk this through later. You probably need to report to Michael, the sooner the better, that Lucifer isn't rolling out some grand new plan, with Gabriel's compliance."

Castiel nodded, but before he could vanish, Cas reached out and snagged his sleeve. "I apologize," he rumbled. "You are not responsible for my issues, and I should not be taking them out on you."

The other angel blinked in surprise. "Thank you," he replied. "We can discuss this further another time, but Lucifer is correct. I must go."

Cas released him, and then he was gone.

"Look at us, learning and growing," drawled Gabriel, smiling. "When's the last time we said 'Lucifer is correct' when the world _wasn't_ ending?"

Lucifer looked ready to object, then paused, considered it, and shrugged it off.

"Speaking of growing…" Sam said, and trailed off as we all took in our new surroundings. Trunks wider than I could reach around, covered in shaggy bark and draped with moss, towered overhead and split into spreading canopies that filtered the sun into a murky green haze.

The air was damp and rich in my lungs, but the silence seemed unnatural. I'd never been to a rainforest before, but even I could sense, on some instinctual level, that the setting deserved a backdrop of riotous birdsong, which was conspicuous in its absence.

Jack glowed again, happiness radiating from him along with his light. "This is amazing, you guys! Growth like this will get the daily rainfall pattern established in _weeks!_ We could start seeing some animal life-"

He broke off as the little red dots we'd seen in his light show reappeared along the bark of the nearest tree with a multitude of tiny popping noises. The dots swelled, solidified, and then cracked open, each containing an insect of some sort.

For a minute, nothing moved, but then they seemed to get their bearings, and the winged ones exploded off the tree and headed in all directions, while the non-winged ones scattered along the bark, getting down to the business of insect things after their extended stay in wherever bugs went when they died.

"…almost _immediately_! Yes!" Jack pumped a triumphant fist in the air while dancing in a circle. The rest of us watched him fondly, content to let him have his moment, until more red dots popped up on the rest of the trees as well. The small noises added together rolled like thunder through the forest.

"Um. We should go," I said. "It's about to get seriously creepy-crawly up in here."

There was a lot of vigorous nodding from everyone besides Jack, who pouted just the slightest, and then each angel grabbed an earthbound soul and in another blink we were all back at the little league field where we'd held our first summit with Lucifer.

Jack's pout melted back into a sunny smile. "Birds and bats will come next. I'm so glad I got to see it! I thought I'd be long gone by the time the first creatures chose to return."

We all exchanged confused glances, even Lucifer, but Sam was the one that voiced our single thought. " _Chose_?"

"Well, yeah," said Jack with a shrug. "Even _I_ can't yank things back through the veil once they've crossed it. My power is just poking holes between dimensions, or I would've gotten Cas back a year ago. All I did was open some doors – well, a _lot_ of doors – and offer them the chance to come back if they wanted."

More skeptical looks were shared, and this time Gabriel led with, "So you _spoke_ to the bugs and the microbes and the fungi? And _asked_ them if they wanted to leave their Afterlife?"

Jack shrugged and tried for modesty. "It sounds more complicated than it is, even with the higher life forms. You guys chose, too, when _you_ all came here that first time."

"So your whole repopulation plan is based off of everything that used to live on this planet going ' _oooh, shiny_ '?" Lucifer asked incredulously. "No offense meant, humans. I fell for it, too, that first time."

"Most Afterlives seem pretty monotonous," Jack said. "Even the complex ones."

The three angels exchanged glances that excluded me and Sam, then nodded their agreement.

"That was the main reason I left in the first place," Gabriel said. "Family politics aside, Heaven can get pretty boring. I'm sure present company can agree, if their actions in the past are any indication."

We all took a beat to recall Cas's and Lucifer's pasts, and everything both of them had done to avoid playing the dutiful soldier for even one second longer.

"But we're capable of higher thought," objected Cas, when he was done getting weirded out by being in the same boat as Lucifer for any reason. "What would make a single-celled organism desire anything other than boredom? Why would they risk it?"

"I may have strongly implied that the grass was greener – or whatever their equivalent was – on this side of the door," Jack admitted, looking a little sheepish. "It's not technically a lie. The grass in Reality is definitely, tangibly, greener than the dream-stuff in Bug Heaven. They just probably would never have noticed the difference on their own."

Lucifer looked south, as if he could see the forest they'd created from our distant vantage. "You've made them a Paradise here on earth. They just don't know it yet. All that virgin, unclaimed territory? If bugs had an oral history, they'd sing your praises for centuries to come."

"We'll be finding your image on every tree, like a dude version of the Virgin Mary on toast," added Gabe. "I'm assuming you offered the plants the same deal as the bugs? But they get to _be_ the greener grass?"

Jack's eyes got dreamy. "Plant Heaven was nice. I might go back just to visit when all of this is over. I couldn't see much, from this side, but it smelled _amazing_."

"Maybe a _date_ might like it," I said, nudging him with an elbow. I received my desired result: his cheeks pinkened like ripening tomatoes. I didn't want to use Claire's name; I wasn't sure if Jack trusted his father enough to share that with him quite yet.

Gabriel opened his mouth to add something to that, but instead the leer dropped off his face. "Oh, _fuck,_ " he groaned instead.

We only had a half-second to blink at him in confusion – Gabriel generally believed that cursing was beneath him – before there was a rustling of wings, and an Amazonian woman wearing leather armor and an expression of extreme distaste stood before our group.

Lucifer looked unperturbed while Gabriel aimed for nonchalance, but Cas's eyes widened in recognition. He tugged me behind him, mouth set in a hard line.

The silence stretched as they stared at each other. None of the angels seemed to want to be the first to speak. Once, I might have interrupted their pissing contest with some sarcastic remark, but I'd learned to not go looking for trouble. Well, not every time, anyway. Like Sam and Jack, I waited and watched. The newcomer was nice to look at, but anyone that made Cas react like that probably wouldn't take well to me commenting on that fact.

Gabriel broke first, but he did it with style. First an eyeroll that would have detached any mortal retina, accompanied by a gusty sigh that would do any teenager proud, followed by an equally teenaged tone of utter disdain. " _Raphael._ To what do we owe the dubious pleasure?"

The bronzed Amazon sneered at him. "Even _that_ is stretching it a bit. I have no idea why Michael is letting you and your band of mongrels run around doing whatever you want."

Raphael was very carefully looking only at Gabriel, with occasional glances flicked at Cas. She gave the impression that while she acknowledged the existence of the others in physical proximity to her, we were all beneath her notice. Even her older brother.

Which, of course, Lucifer couldn't allow. "Hey, little sister! Nice vessel!" He made a gesture, as if to lay a hand on Raphael's shoulder, but she hissed at him, whipping into a defensive position, and he backed off, grinning. He'd gotten her to acknowledge him, at least.

"You are no brother of mine! _None_ of you are." The bold features on her dark face contorted with un-angel-like rage. "You are all … _invaders_. Interfering _meddlers_ from an inferior version of reality, subverting Father's plan with your mere _presence_ here _._ "

Both of her archangel brothers opened their mouths, but she steamrolled onward, hitting her stride. "We were doing fine! We were winning the war! There was no need for Michael to allow _that_ ," she waved a hand at Jack without looking at him, "that … _abomination_ to make _peace_."

She jabbed an elegant finger into Lucifer's chest, and her tone was one that people usually reserve for something found on the bottom of their shoe. " _Peace!_ With _you!"_

For Lucifer's part, he seemed amused, as if a small dog were nipping at his ankles. "Middle child syndrome," he said to Gabriel, shaking his head in mock sadness. "Textbook case. Sad, really."

Raphael balled her fists at her sides and let out a scream of frustration. Lightning arced off of her hands, blasting tiny craters in the ground beside her feet. She didn't seem to have done it on purpose.

"Look, our timelines diverged a few blinks of an eye ago, sis," said Gabriel. "Do the millennia we shared count for nothing? I've met your Gabriel. I'm him and he's me, down to the last scintillating iota of shared grace."

"Well and good for you, Gabriel. But what of Lucifer? The brother I knew would never have fathered a _Nephilim_." The thing on the bottom of her shoe grew smellier and more disgusting.

Lucifer grinned like a shark. "Wouldn't I? Think about it. What's more disobedient than taking Dad's power of creation and using it for myself? I'm just amazed I didn't think of it earlier."

Without changing his expression or his tone, he loomed closer to her. "And if you ever call my son an abomination again, I will _end_ you, peace or no peace."

Fear entered Raphael's eyes for the first time, and she stiffened her back in an effort not to retreat.

Castiel popped back in at that point, reappearing at Raphael's right hand and cutting off whatever she was going to say. I was glad to see him but was getting sick of people appearing out of thin air all over the place.

"Raphael, what are you hoping to accomplish here, besides directly disobeying Michael's orders?"

His gravelly voice had steel in it, steel a foot-soldier shouldn't be using to address an archangel, and a spark of concern nibbled at my conscience.

Raphael shot him the same flickering glance she'd been giving Cas but didn't respond. I wondered if Michael had told her what Cas had done to her, back on our world, or if Castiel had sought out Cas's memories of that day and she was reacting subconsciously to his new attitude.

Lucifer let out a delighted laugh at Castiel's question. "Have you been _ordered_ to stay away from me, little sister? Why?"

"Because you do not belong here! If I get rid of you, I can release my _real_ brother from the Pit again and we can go on the way we were meant to!"

She slid her archangel blade from a sheath at her belt and slashed for Lucifer's throat in one smooth movement. Her blade, as fast as it had been moving, struck sparks from three others and was halted. Cas's reassuring solidity had vanished from my front, reappearing several feet away, defending Lucifer alongside his counterpart and Gabriel. Lucifer, still grinning, had not even flinched.

She fell back, a wounded look on her face.

Lucifer's grin widened as his protectors stood down. "So it was _you_? _You_ broke the seals and let me out in this Winchester-less universe? I'm touched. How did Michael find out, and how is he punishing you?"

"I told him myself," Raphael growled, blade still naked in her hand. "After you showed up a year ago. The only thing that has saved me from prison is _troop morale_."

She hadn't spent enough time among humans to develop the instinct for using air quotes, but her tone implied them anyway, even as her hands tightened on her hilt.

"And my punishment was to be shackled, though not physically. He barred me from the front lines, refused me my chance to deal to my brother the retribution he so deserved. And I accepted it, because breaking the seals was against Father's will. But _this, you all_ , _you're_ even _more_ against Father's will. How can removing you from the equation be wrong?"

"That's not for us to decide, Raphael, unless you are intending a mutiny against Michael's stewardship," said Castiel. " _Are you_?" The steel was stronger now. Cas took his eyes off of their opponent to give Castiel a worried look of his own.

She lifted her blade again, frame growing even tenser. Her eyes blazed, sparks lit off the ends of her hair, and for a second I thought she actually meant to go through with it, but after a silent eternity the fire died and her fingers unclenched. The blade sent up a puff of dust as it landed in the dirt, followed shortly by her knees as she dropped to the ground.

"No," she whispered in a desolate voice. "I dare not go so far. Michael could not overlook such an act, and will not be as lenient, should I disobey him again."

Her eyes welled up, and a single tear spilled down her cheek. I'd heard people say they wanted to cry out of sheer frustration before, but I'd never witnessed it until now.

"Why come now?" Gabriel asked, plopping down onto his butt in front of his sister so that she had to look at him. "We've been kicking around here for months and haven't seen hide nor hair of you 'til today."

"I have felt the …" she cut her eyes at Lucifer, twisted her lips, then continued, "the _Nephilim_ carrying out many deeds for some time now, but today-"

She halted, seemed to struggle for words, tried again. "Today, I could not overlook. He on his own is harmless enough, and seems to be only encouraging the earth to heal itself. But what he did to the rainforest-"

" _We_ did that, little sister," interjected Lucifer. "Gabriel and me. Don't pretend you're mad at my son for growing a forest ahead of schedule. What's really bothering you?" He paused, rolled his eyes. "I guess we're doing sharing-and-caring today after all."

I glanced at Jack. Every aspect of Raphael's behavior today was uncharacteristic for her, especially the sudden shift away from bloody action once she'd decided to commit to it, and I only knew one creature who could affect the emotions of a being as powerful as her.

Jack caught me looking, gave me an innocent shrug, and focused back on the scene in front of us. Man, he was _so_ busted.

Without even being aware that there was something to fight, Raphael was fighting Jack's influence, but she was losing. Her eyes sought out Lucifer's, and she lost the battle.

"When you rebelled," she told him, "you _left_ us. You and Father had your differences, but you left the rest of us behind, too."

Lucifer stopped grinning and sank to his knees in the dirt as well. When he reached to put his hand on Raphael's shoulder again, she let him. "And you felt me here, and wanted to come confront a version of Lucifer that wasn't your own, since you're barred from him?"

The three archangels were in a tight little knot on the ground, knees touching, so Cas and Castiel came back to the rest of us, and we withdrew as discreetly as possible.

When we'd moved far enough that we could converse without being rude, Sam turned to Jack. "Did you-?"

Jack waved a hand at him to cut him off. "They may not be listening, but they can still hear us. Let them work out what they can before we bring _me_ into it."

Castiel stared at Jack, eyes growing wide, and I could see him figuring it out from context. If his loss of innocence was progressing as expected, next should come the inkling of suspicion that Jack had used this power on him as well. Ah, yes, now those blue eyes were going narrow and laser-focused, dark brows drawing together.

So we'd ruined his doubt-free existence, but hey, at least he knew how to look out for himself now.

Cas, of course, had boarded the same train of thought, and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "He did not, not to you," said Cas, when Castiel's gaze snapped to him. "You would have noticed."

"How can I be certain? _She_ did not, though that is a good thing in this case."

"My father's grace created me," said Jack, "but my soul – or what passes for it – was more influenced by Castiel than by Lucifer." Jack shrugged. "I can try it on you, if you like, so you can see for yourself?"

I thought he was going to go for it, but then his brows drew together again. "How would I know you are not just letting me feel it, in order to better fool me in the future?"

Woo, boy. We'd really done a number on him. Everything that Cas had learned through his experiences with us, but none of the trust.

"An excellent notion," Cas said, "and definitely an instinct to develop, but not applicable in this instance. Let him try, and you will see. Are you saying you did not feel him, back there, when he was calming her? There is too much of our grace in him for anything he does to pass our notice, even if the others cannot sense it."

Huh, I hadn't known that. Castiel held the gaze of his other self for a few seconds, evaluating, then looked back at Jack and nodded sharply.

Jack's eyes didn't glow, but we all saw Castiel twitch.

"Ah," he said. "I see what you mean. It feels like when I heal an injury to my vessel, but more. And less, somehow." He narrowed his gaze at Jack again, but seemed more resigned than anything else. "Why is everything you do impossible to put into words?"

"I'm pretty impossible, myself." Jack grinned his regular infectious grin, relieved that the tense moment had passed. Castiel wasn't an archangel, but that didn't mean he couldn't do some damage if he decided we were a threat. "Born of a human and the archangel who hated humans the most, and raised by the family that refused to bow to Heaven's will, even if it meant the end of the world?"

Castiel nodded, face serious. "You are a contradiction, but I do not believe you are an abomination. Anyone who witnesses your deeds can see that. Why do you continue to think of yourself that way?"

The grin dropped off Jack's face. "What makes you say that?"

"Just now, when you reached out, I heard you. I believe it was what the humans call a subconscious thought, but I heard it anyway."

"Ah. Um."

Ordinarily I would have helped the kid out, but I found that I'd like to hear his answer to that question as well, so I put on my best stern face and let him squirm.

He glanced over his shoulder at his father, still deep in communion with Gabriel and Raphael. "I just don't want to let myself forget where I came from. I know I have value outside of what I do, and I am worth more than what I am – Dean taught me that – but that doesn't mean that the weight of my father's deeds is easy to bear."

"Nor should it be," Castiel agreed.

I shared a look with Sam, a little stunned by the wisdom of this weird kid we'd managed not to fuck up beyond repair between the two of us. Like the rest of us, he still needed some major therapy, but he was way more self-aware than _I'd_ ever been.

Sam was frowning. "We talked about this _months_ ago, dude. You know you can come to me if you need to work through a self-esteem issue." _Definitely don't take_ that _one to Dean_ , he didn't say.

Jack shrugged. "It's not an issue, really. Just something that's going to live in my head with me for the rest of my life. Not good or bad, and it's not going to control me, but it's there, and it's not going to go away."

"Join the club," I told him. "Own that shit and be proud." Struck by a thought, I turned to my angel and poked him gently in the chest. "Works for you, too, Cas. We've all got things in our past we'd rather not think about, but could you say you'd do anything different, if you could go back and try it again?"

He gave me a grumpy face for making him the center of attention but shook his head.

"So why let it screw up whatever relationship you could have with Castiel, here and now? Dude, he's _you_ but _different_. When are you ever going to get a chance like this again?"

That got me a raised eyebrow, and wicked snickering from Sam and Jack.

"Keep your minds out of the gutter, you know what I mean. Look at the Gabriels. I've never seen the dude happier than when both of them agree with each other and tell the rest of us we're wrong."

"I wouldn't discount the gutter on our account," Gabriel chirped, slinging an arm casually around Sam's waist as he leaned in to our huddle. We all startled a bit, eye-checked the trio still bonding behind us, and squinted back at him.

"What?" he said, unashamed. "Raphael's _my_ brother, too. Well. Sister, now, apparently. 'S not like I'm going to let my alternate do _all_ the bonding, even if I do get the benefits of it through our shared grace."

Giving Sam a final squeeze, he flounced off across the field to plop down in the midst of his siblings. Our Gabriel and Lucifer made pleased noises of welcome, but Raphael lit up like Gondor calling for aid.

With Michael and Lucifer locked in their constant competition, even back before Lucifer Fell, it made complete sense that Gabriel had been her favorite.

We turned back to look at Sam, faces painted with morbid curiosity.

"Did he mean it? About... them?" Castiel asked.

"Why's everyone looking at _me_?" croaked Sam. He got a bunch of skeptically raised eyebrows of his own, but after starting and abandoning a few different sentences, he straightened his shoulders. "You know what? None of your business."

It was a good effort, but his face was bright red and his eyes were shifty. I knew my brother well enough to tell when he'd gotten laid, and he'd been showing all the signs for months now. I'd never even suspected he swung that way, but Hell, who was I to talk?

Everyone's morbid curiosity dissolved into morbid disappointment, but no one tried to force the issue. Sam and Jack started discussing which area he should tackle next, but my mind fell into the gutter all on its own, and I found myself wondering why Castiel had been the one to ask Sam the question we'd all been thinking, if he was as asexual as angels without a lady's gift were supposed to be.

Both versions of Castiel were looking at me with surprisingly similar hooded eyes, so I guess I'd let that train of thought gain too much focus. Crap.

"Hey," I said, as an awkward cover that neither Castiel seemed to believe. "Should we head back? It doesn't seem like the archangels are gonna be done any time soon."

Lucky for me, Sam hadn't noticed my little mental slip, though Jack gave me a knowing look as we all started walking. He mouthed the word " _twins_ " at me and waggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up," I told him, tucking my chin down toward my clavicles.

"Do you have to report back to Michael about Raphael's actions?" Cas asked Castiel. It was a dry question, but his tone promised _we will talk later_.

They had fallen into step behind us, but by the time I turned my head to listen in, Castiel was already gone.

* * *

Lucifer and both Gabriels started helping Jack out after that. On rare occasions, Raphael turned up as well, but we only ever heard about it afterwards. She never showed up if anyone else was tagging along, and she never came back to the Haven afterward for an unneeded meal or quality hang-out time.

Lucifer did, though, after Jack sat down one-on-one with Bobby and with Mom and asked their permission to bring his father into their safe place. The wards were good, and Cas had been working on improving them over the length of our stay, but there wasn't much that could stop an archangel if he actually intended to harm you.

Bobby had been a hard sell, but Mary swept Jack up into a hug and told him that she trusted him. "Even if your judgement of him fails, I know your strength won't."

So yeah, every so often we all sat around the dinner table and tried to pretend that one among us hadn't literally driven another insane after failing to destroy the world. Sam was only doing it for Jack, I could tell, but we are all getting better at it as the months went on. Even Lucifer.

The first time it rained, Bobby actually cried. We had all gone outside to play in it, tossing around an old football and tussling in the mud as this corner of the world got its first honest soaking in decades. He stood a little way off, hands at his sides, face tilted upward, and sobbed like a mom at a wedding.

He'd resigned himself to living out the rest of his days thirsty, dirty, sometimes hungry, sometimes lonely, always stoic, and constantly in anticipation of a ridiculously powerful being deciding to end him on a whim. Even through all that, he never gave up, never gave in, because there were still people out there who needed him. I can't imagine carrying a burden that size, but watching Bobby weep from joy, I got a small idea of what it might feel like to have it lifted from you.

Of course, when he looked around to find out why we'd all gone so quiet, we all pretended not to have noticed. He wasn't fooled – it's near impossible to fool Bobby, in any universe – but he gave us a gruff grunt of acknowledgement and waved the universal sign for "I'm open."

Sam sent him a neat spiral, and he trapped it in the basket of his arms, wiping his nose discreetly on a plaid-covered shoulder mid-motion.

Even after several months, he still had a little trouble handling a set of sons that had been raised _by_ him, even though _he_ hadn't raised them. So he dealt with emotion using dark humor. Just like he'd taught me to do. Which occasionally turned into a downward spiral of awkward jokes when we each realized the other was doing it and no one else was there to head us off.

It amused Cas to no end, watching Bobby and me fumble around, but he usually took pity on us and intervened before I resorted to asking Bobby for the Colt so I could end myself permanently.

Sam and Jack were busy kickstarting ecosystems all over the world, so Cas often volunteered himself as long-distance transport. To the bunker, to crack it open for later use, and to what had once been Singer's Auto Body. The familiar wrecks and the tools in our hands gave us something solid to grasp – and something solid to talk about.

Convincing him I was competent to work on his cars, decrepit as they were after being left on their own and exposed to the elements for so long, was a challenge we both relished. It was a useless practice, since it wasn't likely that the gasoline industry would rebound any time soon, but the look of pride on his face when I reassembled an engine he'd dismissed as junk was worth all the awkwardness.

Cas would either pick a spot nearby to keep watch from or vanish for hours to go about his own business. The first time he left us behind, Bobby gave me an odd look. "Do I wanna know how you're gonna let him know when we're done here? It's a long walk back."

"I got bits of his grace mixed in with my soul," I said, leaning over an open hood and torqueing a bolt with a hex wrench so that I wouldn't have to look at him. We hadn't gone into detail about our stays in Hell when we'd told Bobby our life story, so he didn't know the extent of the damage we'd suffered, only that Cas had patched us up. "If I call him the right way, he'll hear me."

Bobby grunted and turned back to the car he was working on beside mine. I was getting used to speaking his language again, so I figured that one meant either, "You two have a beautiful relationship," or "I know there's plenty you ain't tellin' me, but I'm not gonna pry."

My best guess was a little of both. While this Bobby was intensely curious about the one who'd raised us, he was reluctant to step into his shoes. He had all this knowledge about surviving the wasteland to share with us, but he always caught himself a few minutes into an enthusiastic explanation, slowed down, and distanced himself from it, like a hesitant stepfather afraid of getting the dreaded "You're not my _real_ dad!"

It was different when we worked on cars together. We could go for hours in silence, punctuated by the clatter of tools and the occasional request for an opinion from the other. I didn't bring up my frequent episodes of déjà vu whenever his gruff voice asked me for a particular wrench, nor how it dragged me back to my early teens spent at his elbow, learning all of this for the first time.

And in turn, he didn't mention the chance at family he'd lost so long ago, before the end of the world, but sometimes I would catch him staring, wearing an expression I can only describe as wistful, which was weird as hell to see on his face.

Hybrid cars hadn't materialized in this universe, so we spent several pleasant afternoons discussing the theory. I was telling him our Bobby's opinions on them ("damn fool plastic eggs, what self-respectin' car is that damn _smooth_?"), and we were laughing at the memory, when he got that look on his face again.

He must have been getting better at reading me as well, because he started to apologize for it. "'m sorry, Dean, you keep makin' me forget that I'm not-"

Suddenly sick of it, I cut him off, stepping close and smearing grease on his coverall with a jabbing finger. "Stop it. You _are_. You're the same person he was. If someone had dumped two gangly awkward boys on _you_ , you would have done it _exactly_ the same way."

"But I _didn't_!"

"So? You have the capacity, just not the opportunity! This whole thing is weird enough without tryin' to throw _guilt_ on top! Can't you just let me 'n Sam 'n Cas be happy to have you around? You don't have to worry about messin' us up like a bad parent or somethin'. We're grown-ass men, in case you hadn't noticed, and pretty damn screwed up already. Havin' you back, even though you're not quite the one we lost, is one of the best things to happen to us in _years._ "

He closed his mouth, which had dropped open during my little outburst, then considered a minute and snorted a wry laugh. "You boys don't get out much, do you? I'm no prom queen."

I laughed too, stepping back and letting my hand drop as the anger drained away as quickly as it had come. "It's been a rough decade or two, that's Chuck's honest truth. Things should be lookin' up now, though."

We hadn't put any limits on when we were planning on returning to our own universe, not wanting to rush Jack, but I found myself thinking about that other place, as much pain and loss as I'd felt there. I missed Baby, and I missed junk food.

Bobby was watching me with his head tilted, like he'd heard what I hadn't said.

"You could come back with us, you know," I told him. "You don't have to stay here, not when there's another option. It would make Mom's decision easier."

That was another thing we didn't talk about: his relationship with Mary. I had no idea if they were emotionally involved, or just comfortable together physically – I sure as hell wasn't going to ask – but I'd seen the two of them interact. Asking Mom to choose between the sons she was just getting to know and the universe she'd adopted as her own was not something I was looking forward to.

I thought he was going to clear his throat and change the subject, like he did whenever we strayed too close to emotions, but he stuck it out, even if he couldn't meet my eyes while he did it.

"This universe may be screwed up, but it's mine, and I'll stick with it. Your mom, though…" He trailed off, toying idly with a handful of screws as he stared into the distance. "From what she's said about the other side, she didn't really feel like she belonged there anyway."

He shot me a quick glance to see how I was handling the direction of the conversation. Lucky for me, Cas had shared what Mom had confided in him, so this wasn't exactly news. I shrugged at Bobby, and he took it as a sign that he could continue.

"She loves you boys, never doubt that, and she'd never even think this to herself, but if she goes back with you, it'll kill her. Not right away, but slow, like poison, she'll turn into a livin' ghost, and she'll haunt that world that took everythin' from her until either she ends it for herself or one of you boys does it for her."

Ooof. That one hurt, because I knew he was right.

"And if she stays here?" I asked. "If we head back through that door and close it up behind us, what happens to her then?"

Bobby squared up to me, arms folded across his chest, even though it had been an honest question with no anger in it. "Then she gets to live happy an' fulfilled with bouts of melancholy when she thinks about you-all, alive but far away, rather than livin' melancholy with bouts of happy in a world that moved on without her when she _died_ thirty years ago."

He stayed squared, shoulders tense. It looked like he'd been building up to this conversation for a while, polishing it in his head so that he wouldn't fumble the words when the moment came.

"D'you expect me to fight you over it?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," he responded, blinking a few times, startled. "She's yer _mom_. I'm just some guy, tellin' you I know her better 'n you do."

I shrugged again. "You _do_. She died when I was _four_. I kept her on a four-year-old's pedestal in my head for decades, but I didn't really get to know her until recently. I know it's been hard on her, seein' me and Sam like this, knowin' she missed everything. It'd almost be easier for her if we'd died as kids."

Aghast, Bobby's eyes popped wide. "What? No, she'd never-"

" _She_ wouldn't, no. But I've been getting better at the whole emotions thing lately, and the child-raisin' thing, too, and I can make some pretty informed guesses."

I reached out to grip his shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. If it comes down to a family discussion, I'm on your side on this one. Her children are grown, and she needs to do what's best for _her_. Besides, 'slong 's Jack's willing, we can set up regular visits. It doesn't have to be goodbye forever."

The tension in his frame bled out under my hand, and his knees wobbled a little before he caught himself and straightened back up. For that brief snatched second, I saw how old and tired he really was, and how much it would hurt him if the one good thing he'd found in half a lifetime was taken away.

In that moment, I almost asked if he loved her, if he would cherish her and see that she was taken care of, but I hesitated too long. He stepped away from my hand with a nod and a gruff harrumph and bent back over the car he'd been working on.

"Good talk," I told the curve of his broad back, grinning, before mirroring him over my own dismantled engine. A chat with Bobby, any Bobby on any topic with very few exceptions, acted on me like a magic tonic, making me feel secure and comforted.

His dry chuckle echoed out of the space under the hood.

* * *

When I wasn't off at the junkyard with Bobby or doing yoga with Mary, Cas and I were racking up points toward our Urban Explorers merit badges, seeking out other survivors and telling them the good news. There were more of them than Bobby had told us to expect, which was a good sign.

Every little hidden enclave of humanity Cas sniffed out for us, I couldn't stop myself from looking for familiar faces, even though it hurt every time when I didn't see any.

Most people eyed us with mistrust to start, and I didn't blame them. Even with Cas keeping his wings under wraps, we were awfully clean and well-dressed for two dudes wandering a decades-old Hellscape with a marked lack of washing machines and shopping malls. It's not like everyone was dressed in rags, but they did seem like they'd been wearing the same pair of jeans for a while, and the rips in them weren't the fashionable kind.

They usually softened up when we offered them a jug of Bobby's finest moonshine. We'd had to scale up his operation a bit, with the angels pitching in to speed up the fermentation process to meet this new demand, but the wary-eyed gaunt-faced humans we found in sewers and caves didn't need to know that.

"Heaven's war is over," we told them – luckily, Cas spoke every human language. "Come on out and live your life under the sun again."

"Or don't, whatever," we occasionally had to concede when we came across a stubborn commune that declared that they were fine where they were. "Just wanted to let you know you had options if this ever stops working out for you."

Whether they followed us back outside immediately to dance about on the soft new grass or chased us off with pitchforks and torches, they got to keep the moonshine and a physical description of the Haven's location, in case they were inclined to travel in the future.

Cas and Castiel met up often while I tinkered with cars, allowing Cas to work through – or emotionally repress – whatever it was that bothered him so much about Castiel, so sometimes Castiel tagged along as well, if Michael didn't have any orders for him that day. He and Cas passed themselves off as human twins, with Cas taking the lead and Castiel acting as the shy one until he got the hang of it. They garnered a lot of attention from the huddled masses.

"They have seen no new faces for a generation, at least," said Cas when I pointed this out after a first contact mission where all the women in the underground town had trailed after us, giggling and whispering to each other, even after their Elders had declared a need to "meditate" on our news. "We are a novelty to them, that is all." Castiel nodded agreement.

"You're kidding, right?" I huffed a frustrated breath as we trudged away from the cave entrance. We'd approached on foot and needed to get far enough away that it wouldn't blow our cover when we vanished.

They exchanged glances, then gave me back identical frowns.

"You're not kidding. Of course you aren't." I kicked at a rock, skittering it up the path ahead of us. Their shared grace had settled somewhere in balance between the two of them – though their personalities still held the quirks they'd acquired through living their own lives – but even with whatever they were somehow taking from me, _kidding_ didn't come easily.

"I know lusting when I see it," I told them. "Been the target of it myself, a time or two. One of you is bad enough, but a matched set? Those poor girls don't stand a chance."

"Precisely," said Cas. "They do not, as you say, stand a chance. I belong to you, and my counterpart is not inclined to partake. So why do you find it so upsetting?"

His casual statement of ownership did very little to dampen the uncomfortable prickling feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it did help me to identify it. The caveman part of my brain wanted to chase away anyone who even looked at him for too long – and it didn't help that he was unfailingly polite to every person he met – but he'd never given me the slightest reason to feel _jealous_.

Not that jealousy was _rational,_ but I didn't want to admit it to him. To _them_ , since they were both studying me with growing curiosity the longer I stayed silent. _No, please don't do that thing with your head_ , I accidentally prayed.

Which, of course, immediately backfired, because they both heard me, and both cocked their heads in confusion, and I nearly combusted on the spot.

They might have been unaware of the local fauna's lusting, but they couldn't miss mine even if they wanted to.

Which, apparently, they didn't, as I discovered when they spoke right over my fumbled apology.

"Why is he even more disturbed by a simple gesture than he was before?" Castiel asked Cas without taking his eyes off of me.

"He finds my inquisitive nature very attractive," Cas replied, grinning smugly.

"Wait, you did that _on purpose_?" I near-wailed, boiling in my boots from embarrassment. " _Why?_ "

"We have a proposition for you," Cas replied, "and I wanted to put you in the mood to be receptive to it."

They glanced over their shoulders at the enclave we'd just left, exchanged a nod, seized one of my arms apiece, and vanished us on the spot.

When my feet hit the ground and my stomach caught up with us, I opened my eyes and gasped. Oeno Island was even more beautiful now, greener and brighter, with jewel-like birds flitting through the proud saw-palms that danced in a salt-scented breeze coming off the sparkling sea.

I got over the scenery in a hurry when the implications of them bringing me here caught up to me as well. Castiel had let go when we landed, but Cas still gripped my arm, so I looked at him first.

"What proposition?" I asked him, stomping hard on any graphic images my perverted brain tried to suggest.

Said perverted brain roared in triumph when Cas looked over at Castiel and raised an eyebrow. Receiving a nod in return, Cas turned back to me.

"Castiel wants to attempt sexual intercourse with us."

As always when wishes come true, I looked for the catch. "Cas, you sure you're okay with this?" I tried hard to keep any begging from my voice. If he was even the slightest bit uncomfortable with it, or unsure of my devotion to him, there's no way I'd go for it. Even if it was the best offer I'd ever received, even in djinn-dreams.

"Dean," Cas chided, gripping my shoulders and turning me to face him. Golden sand crunched under my feet, and the sunlight was bright in my panic-wide eyes. "There was no need for you to be jealous of the women we just met" – shit, he'd figured me out – "and there is no need for me to be jealous of Castiel."

I looked over at the other him, the one we'd leave behind. "Not that I'm such a prize, but you know this isn't permanent, us bein' here. Do you really wanna cross this line, knowin' we'll be gone soon?"

Castiel smiled back. "That is part of why I wish to attempt it. I have been a student of human nature since your kind began walking upright, and I have long wanted to know more about sex, as it seems to be very important to most of you. You and your Cas provide the greatest opportunity I will ever have, to study the intricacies of feeling bound up in the act that are unique to humans among all other creatures."

"And the other part?" I raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, a much more natural gesture these days. "I like you, Dean Winchester. I may not feel sexual attraction the way you do, but I was created to serve humanity, and I am certain that giving you pleasure will be fulfilling for me as well."

I was in agony, wanting this so much but knowing for certain it was more than I deserved, so I turned back to Cas to give him one last chance to try and talk me out of it if he wanted to.

He didn't.

* * *

A few weeks later, we were exiting the Haven' wards, saying our goodbyes before we all headed off in separate directions for the day when Cas, Gabriel, and Jack abruptly went blank.

Sam and I exchanged a tense glance while we waited for their attention to return, or lightning to strike, or whatever was coming, but it turned out to be much less sinister.

Jack blinked, then beamed at us. "Angel Radio is back online!" he said. "Michael must have cleared the remaining Host from suspicion."

Gabriel's face was screwed up in concentration. "Still sounds pretty guarded – I'm guessing it won't return to its original levels until after we've taken our Lucifer and gone home. Still, good sign, right?"

I was struck with a thought. "How long has it been off-line? Have any of the other angels mentioned?"

"Probably went silent as soon as they realized Lucifer had been released," Gabe responded. "So a few decades. Why?"

" _Anna._ This is how it started for her, back in our universe. If she's still alive out there, she's gonna think she's lost it. Is there any way-?"

But Cas was already shaking his head. "She would just feel like a human now, unless I get up close. We can only carry on as we are, seeking out the remaining populations. If she is among them, we will find her."

"Have we checked that tree in Kentucky yet?" Sam asked. "If this Uriel didn't betray Heaven, he wouldn't have taken her grace from it. If it's there, then we know she's alive, right?"

"It's there," said Jack, looking a little smug when we turned to gape at him. "I noticed a tree that hadn't burned like everything else, so I examined it, and it felt like that lady we met in Freyja's dimension." He shrugged. "Seemed like it'd be okay to leave it and come back for it if it was needed. Since it was the only thing that kept the tree alive through the end of the world, it seemed a shame to just rip it out."

Sam was looking worried. "How many human groups are still out there, do you think?" he asked. "She won't be stuck in an asylum just for hearing angels like ours was – these people know just fine that angels exist – but she might be incarcerated for it. Maybe even executed, depending on how hard-line her faction is."

"Maybe this version will know to keep her mouth shut," I said. "Ours was pretty innocent, right up until we ruined it for her like we ruin it for everyone. This one will have lived her whole life during a war."

"I can find her, I think," said Jack into the grim silence. "But I'd have to portal to her, which might make things worse for her, incarceration-wise."

"Can you portal _near_ her?" I asked. "Does it even work like that?"

"Depends on where she is. If she's deep underground, there's a good chance whoever steps through will end up encased in solid rock."

Gabriel raised a hand. "So that's me volunteering as tribute, then. Won't bother me a bit. Let's pay our Fallen sister a visit."

"And say _what_ , exactly?" Sam interjected, before Jack could focus on the task. "'You were born a human, to human parents, but you were once an angel who made the most painful choice an angel can make'? And 'would you like to change your mind now, we promise Heaven is different and you'll only go to jail and get tortured for a few dozen centuries?'" He scoffed. "What outcome are you hoping for?"

Nodding, I added, "She's got no reason to love Heaven, after what the War did to humanity. Why would she return to the fold now?"

Cas countered me with a shake of his head. "She deserves to know who she is, and to be offered the choice to make up her own mind. We do not know what she has been through."

I frowned at him. "Are you sure you're not just doin' this for Castiel, so he'll have someone when we leave?"

That caught him off-guard, but he firmed his resolve along with his jaw. "She still deserves the choice. That is what you do, after all: offer impossible choices. Or have you once again decided that you will make the choices on behalf of others?"

 _Oof_ , hard to keep arguing after such a ruthless gut-punch.

Taking my capitulation as a given, Gabriel turned back to Jack with an excited grin. "Activate the beam, Scotty, let's energize!"

"We're all agreed, then?" Jack asked, studying each of us in turn, looking for any sign of dissent. "Alright, one portal to _Anna's vicinity_ , coming right up."

"Wait," I interrupted hurriedly. When Cas glared at me, ready to jump back into the argument he'd just won, I held my hands up. "I just mean, you said that pokin' a portal through can weaken the fabric of reality, so maybe we should do it from somewhere farther away from the Haven. In case it affects the wards or somethin'."

There was some sheepish murmuring as everyone admitted I was right, and then the angels zapped us to a certain field in Kentucky to mulligan our false start.

Jack had been wearing the amulet off and on, trying not to fall out of the habit, but today was apparently an _off_ day. He closed his eyes, frowning, and his signature golden glow lit him up like a firecracker, dancing under his skin as he concentrated. "Anna, Anna, Anna," he murmured, using the grace from the tree behind us and the memories of her that he'd taken from me and Sam as a focus. "Ah, _there_ you are!"

His hand came up and the golden light gathered in his palm, wavering upward like a heat mirage or a sweet anime fight move as it waited for him to give it direction. "Now, just a few hundred feet away from _that_ ," the outstretched arm moved a few degrees toward the south, "and _bingo_."

The light leaped off his hand and snaked its way to a point a few feet in front of him. Its leading edge touched the ground and the rest of it snapped up straight, vibrating to a halt like a giant harp string. There was an awed silence as we all acknowledged how friggin' cool that had been.

"Here goes nothing," Gabriel said, and vanished. I thought he'd gone, but Sam jumped a little as something invisible pinched him. There was some laughter from an unseen source, and then the harp string twanged, and then silence.

We waited a few minutes, staring hard at the golden tear in case something that wasn't Gabriel tumbled back out of it. We were so focused that when Castiel popped up behind us, he had to pretend to clear his throat to get our attention.

"Ahem."

We startled like cats, spinning around and flailing weapons from holsters. Even Cas flickered and vanished for a second before he caught himself and returned.

Castiel's lips turned up at the corners, twitching, which was the angel equivalent of rolling on the floor laughing. "My apologies," he said, when he'd brought himself back under control. "I was sent to report on the nature of your portal."

Something had eased in him since our little romp, or maybe even before that: since he and Cas had worked out their differences, so to speak. Without changing his posture at all, he managed to seem as if he were slouching comfortably, instead of standing at constant ramrod attention.

Sam, who knew me and my signs every bit as well as I knew his, had figured out within minutes what had transpired between the three of us when we'd reappeared at the bunker later that evening, and after giving Cas a thorough look to make sure I hadn't wounded him with my uncouth demands, he gave me a hearty slap on the back and said no more about it. He even did us the courtesy of not telling either of the Gabriels, who would have teased us mercilessly.

Ever since, Sam'd been easier with Castiel, treating him more like a member of the family than just a valued ally. If Castiel hadn't been Winchestered before, he certainly was now.

Jack gave Castiel a welcoming smile and went back to focusing on the portal. Unlike us, he could see what was on the other side, so when his eyes widened in horror, we all tensed up, raising the weapons we still held. He hurriedly began pinching the glowing rip back together, top to bottom, stopping when only a knee-high segment remained.

The harp sang again, a much higher note from a much shorter string, and Gabriel ground a furrow in the new grass as he slid through the remaining opening on his back with an armful of redhead, hollering, "Close it up! Close it up!"

Jack hurried to obey, squeezing the edges together with both fists until their glimmer vanished in the sunlight. Nothing else had time to emerge, and Jack powered down as we turned to the new arrival.

Sam was already there, holding a hand out to help up Gabriel's passenger. "Hello, my name is Sam. Are you okay?"

She accepted his hand and when she was upright, we could all see the smoke smudges and tear tracks on her cheeks as she shook her head. The red of her hair glinted in the sunlight, and I had a vivid flashback to the backseat of my car the night before the end of the world. We'd found Anna, all right. More pale and gaunt than the one we'd known, but her all the same.

Gabriel popped to his feet unaided, dusting himself off with angry little slaps. "Hell no, she's not! I thought humans gave up that sort of barbarism back in the 1600's! I've got half a mind to go back and-"

He halted his tirade when she seized his arm, but then she let go as if his skin burned her and backed away. "Who the hell are you people?" she asked. Her voice was rough, as if she'd been screaming recently. "What just happened?"

Her gaze shot from face to face, seeking something familiar, but we couldn't provide that for this version of her, so we just tried to look as harmless as possible, re-holstering weapons with practiced nonchalance. Cas and Castiel's twin visages threw her, but only for a second.

Castiel rolled with it, cocking his head to the side to study her in return. I saw it hit him a few seconds later, when his eyes went to the only tree in the field and then shot back to her, wider than before. He had learned enough subtlety to keep his mouth shut until she calmed down, but the air where his wings would be rippled a little, and his lips did that twitch thing again as he fought back an excited grin.

Sam stepped into the mediator role, holding his hands up like he was gentling a pack of velociraptors. "We're happy to answer all of your questions, but it might be easier to explain if you tell us what happened on the other side of the portal first."

"What the hell is a portal?" she demanded, though the tension in her frame eased a bit when no one jumped her. "Are you guys angels? Is that a new thing, too, along with the voices?"

"The portal was mine," said Jack. "I'm Jack, and I'm no angel, but I do have special abilities. The voices, though, those _are_ angels. And we can explain why you're hearing them, if you'd like."

She squared her shoulders and breathed deeply for a few beats. "Okay. My own family just tried to burn me at the stake, and I was rescued by an invisible man who whisked me away through a magic hole in space. This has already been the weirdest day ever, why not pile it higher?"

"They did _what?_ " Sam squeaked. The horror on his face was reflected on everyone else's as well, but as the official mouthpiece of the group, he got to express it out loud.

"Yeah, pretty crappy, right? Granted, it was stupid of me to admit to anyone that I had started hearing voices, much less that I thought they might belong to angels, but I thought I could trust my own _mother_ not to turn me in, and anyway, they seemed to be saying that the war was over! Next thing I know, it's all torches and pitchforks and _for the good of the colony_."

Turning back to Gabriel, she said, "If you hadn't pulled me out when you did, I'd be ashes by now. So, thank you. But I'd really like an answer to my original question: who are you? We've been out of contact with outsiders for decades – no one should know we _exist_."

Sam's next words were going to be something along the lines of _we were looking for you_ , which would lead us down a path of no return, and she would make her first choice without even knowing she was making it, which didn't seem fair to me.

"Before we get to that," I interrupted, "could you live with not knowin' the answer? We can take you to a place where you'll be safe from angels and demons alike, with some open-minded humans who will see that you're taken care of as long as you pull your weight, and there'll be no more talk of burnin' anyone. You won't even have to hear the angels any more, long as you're inside."

Sam was giving me bitch-face for interrupting, but this was the right thing to do, I could feel it. "If we tell you the answer to your question, your life will change forever. Just thought you might want to know that first. I'm Dean, by the way."

Her lips twisted as she considered it. "I'm Anna," she said, "but I suspect you-all already knew that. I appreciate the offer, but I do think I really have to know."

I nodded in understanding and gestured for Sam to take the thread back up. He rolled his eyes at me but grew serious again as he stepped up to her, careful not to crowd her. "Anna, there's no sugar-coating this. Before you were born to your parents, you were an angel. You pulled out your own grace, and you Fell, because you wanted to be human. You can hear angels in your head because you used to be one of them."

She blinked as if concussed. "How- How do you know this?" she asked, which was a better reaction than I was expecting.

"That's … complicated. We can get into it later," said Sam. "And we don't have any knowledge of your human life, but we're not wrong about the angel part."

"Okay, so, say I believe you," she said. "What comes next?"

"Next comes a choice. You can still take the option Dean gave you, knowing what you know now but remaining a human and living out a human life. Or, you can reclaim your grace and become an angel again. The voices are correct, the war _is_ over, so you wouldn't have to fight or anything like that."

Her eyes narrowed. "If being an angel is so great, why did I stop?"

Cas put a hand on Sam's shoulder, indicating that he'd take this one. "You were stationed on Earth, studying the humans for centuries, and you grew frustrated with your inability to feel what they felt. You saw angels as cold and uncaring, even before the war started."

His lips twitched into a brief grin as his eyes held hers. "You expressed the specific desire to enjoy sex. And chocolate cake."

She grinned back, almost in spite herself. "Cake's pretty rare, these days, but past-me had the right idea about the sex. If I take my grace back, that all goes away?"

Cas shot me a quick smirk before replying, "Not necessarily. You would not be inhabiting a vessel, which creates the distance you found so distasteful. You were born in that body. It is yours, to feel and to taste with."

The excitement in her face abruptly cut off. "Wait, wait. I know enough about angels to know that they won't be happy with me. Would I be taking it back up just to be punished for it?"

"Not if you're careful," Gabriel said, piping up for the first time. "There are ways to hide from them for extremely long periods of time. Speaking from experience, here."

That brought her suspicions right back around. "Still haven't answered my question, have you? Who _are_ you people? Making portals, hiding from angels, telling me my own life?" She took a few steps backwards. "You're not … _demons_ , are you?"

If she didn't look so concerned, I think we all would have burst out laughing. As it was, we strangled the impulse down to some involuntary snorting. "Hardly," said Jack, waving a hand. "And of course, we need to introduce ourselves completely if you're ever going to trust anything we say."

I pulled the collar of my shirt aside, exposing the anti-possession sigil tattooed below my clavicle. "You've been out of contact for a while, so I don't know if you've seen one of these-"

"We were isolated, not stupid," she said, pulling up the sleeve of her t-shirt to show a cruder version of the sigil burned into her own upper arm. Sam and Jack exposed theirs as well, when she directed pointed glances at them, but the angels looked uncomfortable.

Fists on hips, she turned back to Sam. "What's their deal, then?"

Now Sam looked uncomfortable, too. "They're. Um. They actually are angels."

Surprising me again, she just nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. Have to know them to be able to hide from them. How long do I get to think about this?"

"Long as you want," said Sam. "You'll need one of them to get your grace out of that tree over there so you can reabsorb it, but there's no consequence for delaying."

She blinked at him again, then spun around and gaped a little at the lonely giant in the field of waving grasses. Its leaves rustled in a passing breeze, as if calling out to her, and it was some time before she returned to the conversation.

"I feel … _something_ when I look at it, that's for sure. It'll be safe here?"

We all looked at Castiel, who was supposed to report back about Jack's portal. If he breathed a word of her existence, her grace would be confiscated and she'd be snapped up by Heaven before she ever had a chance to get used to breathing fresh air again.

"Yes," he said. "No one here will tell them about it, and no one knows about it but us."

Such a treasonous statement, so casually spoken.

"While you're thinking it through, want to come visit that place I mentioned, with the nice people and the lack of angels in your head?"

Anna stared hard as Castiel for a beat. "Well, I've only been hearing the voices since this morning, so I'm not an expert, but I think this one just reported that the portal was to contact a remote human settlement unreachable from the surface. I feel safer already. Let's go."

"Do you mind travelling by angel?" asked Jack. "It's a lot faster than walking."

* * *

We went the old-fashioned way, via forehead-boop. A bit less personal than being swept into Cas's arms like a romance novel cover model, but it got the job done. Between two blinks, I was standing on the hill near the Haven again.

Another blink, and Anna was there as well, looking a little windswept and wide-eyed. Jack and Sam arrived with our three feathered friends a second later.

Anna took a second to study their twin faces. "Angels do have names, right? How come I don't rate an introduction?"

This was Castiel's Anna, so Cas let him field this one for them both after a quick exchange of glances. "That is part of the complicated explanation, related to how we know so much about your past. The short answer is we are both called Castiel."

"And I'm Gabriel," said our resident archangel, giving her a little finger-wave. "I've got another me hanging around somewhere as well, but he's just as cool as me, so don't worry about it."

"Another … you?" Anna's face went blank.

"Too much information, not enough alcohol cushioning your system," said Sam. "Last time we explained everything to someone, it took several hours and a whole bathtub of moonshine. Come in and get comfortable before we fracture your reality even more."

"Oh, right," Anna said, the revelations of the past few minutes apparently having knocked the whole murder by burning thing right out of her head. "Thank you. Where do we go from here?"

I'd been coming and going from that nondescript little hole in the ground for months now, and I could pick it out of a lineup of twenty other nondescript little holes in the ground, but looking around now, trying to see it through the eyes of a newcomer, I could see all over again what a great job Bobby had done.

The new grass that was springing up all over the world had taken root here as well, and some scrub bushes were even starting to push through the stony ground, but his boulder-ringed fortress just looked like a gentle swell of earth, a coincidence of geological physics. There was nothing to indicate a place of safety for humans in a world gone mad.

"It's just down this way," Sam said, starting down the hill ahead of us. We trailed him like imprinted ducklings.

"Is it permissible for you to stay with us?" Cas asked Castiel on the way. "I do not want you to miss what will come next, but Michael…"

He trailed off, trying to put into words what suspicions their oldest brother might be forming about his independence of thought, and what the consequences of that might be, without revealing too much too soon in front of the new human in the group.

Castiel's return smirk was so familiar that I involuntarily put a hand to my own face in case he'd somehow stolen it.

"Michael's standing orders are to learn as much from you as I can, at every opportunity." His shoulders did their customary shimmy as our group slipped beneath the Haven's outermost wards and his connection to Heaven was severed, but he finessed it into a shrug. "I will share with him what he needs to know."

"Hey, the voices are gone!" Anna said, pressing her long, pale fingers into her grimy temples before looking around, wide-eyed. "What did you do? Are you turning me in now that I can't hear you?"

"They're just as cut off as you are," said Sam. "We're about to enter the safest neutral zone this side of the Rockies." He gestured to two large rocks tilted against each other at a seemingly haphazard angle.

She squinted into the darkness between them, then shrugged and strode forward. "I've spent my entire life in caves, what's one more?"

As she stepped under the first stone lintel, she halted again, shuddering. "Gross, it feels like I just walked through a spiderweb." She shook her arms, and jumped in place a little, doing the multiverse-acknowledged Icky Dance. "And it feels like it took something _with it_. _Eeeewww_."

Sam gave her a sympathetic nod. "That was probably the remnants of your grace being blocked by the wards. Even if you didn't know it was there, it'd still feel weird when it's gone."

She gave a final shiver and went still. Her eyes went to the angels strung out behind, waiting for the bottleneck to clear. "It must be even worse for them," she said, voice quiet and a little sad.

He nodded again. "There'll be time for them to tell you their stories once you're settled. They each have their own reasons."

Pulling her shoulders back, she started forward again, pulling the bipedal train along until we all popped out into the main room.

Mom was sitting at the table where we'd kissed her goodbye not a half-hour ago. Her sturdy mug slopped some tea onto the scarred wooden surface as she gaped at us in shock. Recovering like a champ, she stood and crossed the room to us, smiling. "A new face, boys? Who's this?"

We all grinned back with varying degrees of guilty sheepishness. The angels would all deny it to their dying breaths, but they loved being Mary's 'boys' every bit as much as Sam and I did.

Sam kept up his role as spokesperson. "Mom, this is Anna."

Anna's face whipped back and forth between the two of them, her mouth forming the word _mom?_ while her eyebrows rose toward her hairline, but Mary had already scanned her from head to foot, noting the torn clothes and tear tracks and soot.

"Welcome to the Haven, Anna. I can already tell your story is going to be something else, but let's get you cleaned up. Do you want some tea?"

* * *

After a nice scrub with water from the spring that ran through one of the lower rooms, and donning some of Mary's spare clothes, Anna seemed like a new person. She gave Mary the first smile we'd seen out of her as she requested a mug of the coffee-sludge that we male humans preferred over Mary's hand-picked herbal tea, doctored with a medicinal dose of booze.

She slugged back a swallow, wincing at the burn of it down her throat, and chased it with a cookie that Mary handed to her. "This is all very civilized," she remarked, looking around the room and back at the mixed-species group now seated around the table. "So the war's really over, then?"

Mary nodded, smiling wide. "Thanks to Jack, actually, but _that_ is a _long_ story that doesn't get any easier to wrap your head around from starting at the end."

Anna darted a glance at Jack, but let it go for the moment. "You all keep saying that – _it's complicated_ – but it can't possibly be _that_ big a deal. What, are you _aliens_ or something?"

Jack made a _hmmm_ noise. "That actually is a pretty good analogy. We're not from this world, though we _are_ from one just like it."

We were all waiting for her to faint or scream or something, but all that happened was that her already-pale face went even paler. Her voice and hands remained steady as she took another swallow and asked, "Analogy? Not _literal_ aliens, then."

She looked at Cas and me – too close to each other as usual – and at Castiel – across the table from us but definitely connected by an invisible tether – and her eyes lit up. "Holy. Shit," she breathed, setting down her mug and placing her hands flat on the table. "Are you guys from another universe?"

"Ding ding ding, give the lady a prize," said Gabriel, looking impressed.

"I _knew_ it! I _knew_ it was possible! This is _amazing!_ "

Bobby, who'd returned from a patrol while she was cleaning up, goggled at her a little. "That was easy," he said. "Took me durn near a month just to stop thinkin' Mary was crazy, and I was there when they came through in the first place."

"Our colony had a bunch of angelic scrolls they salvaged from somewhere," she replied, hiding the twist of her mouth at the thought of her people in another sip of coffee. "They detailed the Winchester Prophecies. You're familiar with them? Most people said they were garbage, since things didn't shake out like it was written, but how could _angels_ predict the future wrong?"

She gazed off into space, cheeks growing a little pink, and I thanked Chuck that her upbringing led her to assume that _everyone_ was familiar with the prophecies. Most humans wouldn't have been, but there was no need to tell her that.

"I used to sneak into the relic room when I was little to read them over and over. I truly believed that if I could just figure out how to move the right way, I could slip sideways out of this universe and into the one where they came true."

She snorted a laugh, coming back to the present. "I know, it sounds stupid now, but the thought that somewhere out there we'd gotten it right got me through a lot of crap."

"Wait, wait, hang on," I said. Everyone was looking sort of confused and uncomfortable, which I recognized as my cue to jump in with both feet. "You'd _prefer_ the world of the Winchester prophecies? Where Michael and Lucifer each got their ultimate meat suits and went to war in full glory?"

Her cheeks got even pinker. "I did say I knew it sounded stupid. And…" She cut off, toyed with her mug a little, then continued, "and I was an only child, but I was also a silly little hopeless romantic, and I … I always hoped that since it was brothers they were possessing, that their bond would be stronger than the archangels' hate, that they could throw it off and save the world anyway. What? Why are you all smiling like that?"

Sam and I were avoiding each other's eyes, uncomfortable with talking about our _bond_ , but Gabriel was making an obnoxious _awwwwww_ noise while everyone else tried not to laugh.

"These boys are just _adorable_ when they're being modest, is all," he said. "Didn't introduce themselves properly when we picked you up, did they? Anna Milton, meet Sam and Dean _Winchester_. Archangel-plot-foilers and world-savers extraordinaire. In _our_ universe, at least."

Anna put one hand over her mouth, eyes wide and bright, then let out a high-pitched squeal, reminding me of another red-headed fangirl I'd known, one that'd probably never even been born in this universe. "Okay, now you _have_ to tell me everything!"

* * *

Mary pulled me aside once we'd talked past our Anna's history and her own resurrection, moving on to the British Men of Letters. Both Anna and Castiel were listening with rapt attention; he'd eavesdropped on bits of it before, and seen it all in Cas's memories, but the tale was quite a ride.

"What are her options at this point?" she asked once we were out of the room. "Of course, she's welcome to stay here, but now that she knows what she used to be, will that be enough for her?"

"That's up to her," I said, shrugging. "She knows where her grace is, and how to get it back, if she decides she wants to be an angel again, but we're gonna make damn sure she's aware of all the risks first."

She startled me by snatching me into a hug, snaking her arms tight around my waist and pressing her face into my chest. "You're a good kid, Dean. I probably don't tell you that enough."

"Mom, I'm almost forty," I told the top of her head, but I hugged her back anyway, closing my eyes and soaking in her soft warmth while I still could. It would about kill me to leave her behind, but Bobby was right. She deserved better than what her own world could offer.

"Age doesn't matter for you and me," she said, pulling back and grinning up at me as she put a hand to my cheek. "Relatively speaking, we've spent more time off this world than on it. I don't care how big you are, you're still my baby. You and Sam, both."

Her other baby, all six-feet-four-inches of him, stuck his head into the hallway. "All good in here, guys? Anna's almost caught up, multiverse-wise, so Jack's about to start on his part of the story. Do you want to be in the room, just in case?"

Ah, yes, the admitting-to-being-Lucifer's-kid part. Just because our Anna had been nice about it in Freyja's realm didn't mean this still-human Anna would, too, even after learning about her own rebellion.

We followed him back into the main room, and I returned to Cas's side while Mary started bustling around making sandwiches for everyone. Anna's mug still sat at her elbow, half-full and stone-cold, as Jack started on the sordid tale of his own conception.

* * *

"It's … it's _gone_!"

We were back in the field in Kentucky, facing the tree that had – until at least a week previously – sheltered Anna's grace. Its leaves were already yellowing, turning brittle at the edges, and Anna's desolate wail rattled them a little.

She'd spent the last week inside the Haven, recovering from her ordeal and thinking hard about her options while the rest of us went about our business, putting the finishing touches on this world's reboot. Castiel visited when he could, letting her get to know him again and reassuring her that he'd still be her friend, no matter what she ended up choosing to do.

She had announced that morning that she'd reached a stalemate and would like to visit her grace, to see if just being near it could convince her one way or another, but when our gang landed in the field once more, we made an unfortunate discovery.

Cas put a hand to the tree trunk before nodding in confirmation of Anna's gut feeling. His expression stayed neutral, but I could see his angel blade slide into his other hand behind his back. Open field, invisible super-powered airborne enemies, it was enough to set anyone's teeth on edge.

The rest of us moved into ready positions, with Anna noticing and mimicking us a few beats later, eyes wide. Sam and I were probably safe – any angel that would steal a grace wouldn't consider humans a threat – but it had been a while since someone had underestimated me. My lips stretched, teeth baring in an anticipatory grin.

"Anything on the radio, guys?" Sam asked, but there was a round of head-shaking in response, which ratcheted up the tension even further. If anyone on Heaven's side had found it, they would have reported it like a good little soldier. Lack of buzz meant that Michael had missed somebody in his Host-wide purge.

Question was, who?

"My money's on Uriel again," I murmured, keeping my eyes moving. "Michael may have cleared him, but ours was cracked all the way through. There's no way this version avoided it completely."

"Astonishing. A logical conclusion from a mud monkey, if crudely put."

I gritted my teeth and held my tongue as we all turned to face Uriel, who was suddenly standing ten feet away, still wearing the stern-faced older man he'd favored back on our side. Any one-liners I might've managed would've been wasted on him anyway.

By announcing his presence like he had, he seemed to be indicating he wasn't here to fight us, which was a promising start. I had no doubt that Jack could take him alone, even if Cas and Gabriel weren't also along for the ride, but this was Castiel's planet, and Castiel's Uriel, and our actions here could have consequences for him.

Uriel's condescending gaze scanned our group. "What do we have here? Lucifer's child," he gave Jack a respectful nod, "several useless humans from the wrong reality," he sneered at Sam and me, and to my surprise, Gabriel, "my erstwhile commander," his eyes glowed at Anna, and I started to get really concerned about his motivations, "and an errant angel. Who is …?"

He trailed off, peering at Cas, who was wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans under one of my long-sleeved flannels – not exactly the paragon of tidiness one would expect from a member of the Host. I found it ridiculously attractive, myself. "Castiel, is it you? Truly? You have been acting more independently since this whole affair began, but I did not think you were capable of _this_."

He gestured at Anna, his tone combining with the simple hand motion to convey the sheer depth of the shit Castiel would be in if Uriel tattled on him.

"Do not mistake me, Uriel," Cas said, face stern. "While we share many of the same memories, I am _not_ this world's Castiel."

Uriel's eyes widened. "Michael did not mention that an angel from the other universe accompanied the Nephilim! How…"

He trailed off, and I saw calculations flash over his face, the pros and cons of another angel discovering his secret, speculations about both Castiels' loyalties, how to use this unknown quantity to his advantage.

"You removed the grace that was sustaining this tree," Cas stated. It wasn't a question. "How did you learn of its existence?"

"Can you not feel them, then?" asked Uriel. "The weak spaces where the Nephilim has torn the fabric of our reality? I suspected my ability was unique, but it is satisfying to have confirmation. This world is _riddled_ with them, now."

Jack looked horrified but stuck to our fall-back plan of keeping our mouths shut. Gabriel kept his head down as well, and the rest of us avoided looking at him, even though I at least was desperately curious about how he was masking himself from his brother.

"So many holes – most of them smaller than the limited human eye can perceive – in every possible environment. And _I_ can tell that a larger one was opened here. I wanted to find out why. This field is no large-creature habitat, so why would you create an opening of such size?"

He turned to Anna, who hid her fear like an old pro and faced him with shoulders squared. "Then I noticed your tree. Ah, commander, how you have Fallen! Even now, they remember you, search for you, to punish you for your betrayal. Though it does seem to have become less of a priority as the years pass."

"You could earn a promotion by turning her grace in on its own," suggested Cas, after glancing at a stoic Anna. "There is no need to inform Heaven of her continued existence as a human."

Cracked as he was, Uriel managed to give Cas a shocked look. "Counseling treason? _You?_ I never thought I would exist long enough to witness the day!"

Cas didn't reply, a move designed to invite a classic villain monologue, and Uriel went for it hard. "No, I seek no advancement under Michael's stewardship. His little purge reversed millennia of hard work. It takes time and effort to change an angel's mind. Commander, you are the key to my new beginning: an embodiment of the rewards to be reaped by following a different set of orders."

"Whose orders are those?" she asked, speaking for the first time since his arrival. "Do you intend to release Lucifer again, to restart your war when this planet is just getting back on its feet? I refuse."

Everyone's eyes shot back to Uriel – we all knew what he was capable of when refused, after all – but he just smiled. It was a small smile, but it was more than we'd ever seen on his face before. "Take up your grace once more. With it will come the memory of what you once were, what you once believed. We were allies, you and I, and shall be again."

Anna's pale face went even whiter in shock. This was something new, something our Anna either hadn't experienced or hadn't shared with us.

Moving slowly, since everyone but Gabriel was still holding a weapon of some sort, Uriel slipped a hand into his coat and withdrew a softly glowing vial. He held it out on the flat of his palm. Anna didn't even seem to realize she was being drawn toward it until Cas halted her with a hand on her shoulder.

"You do not have to," he reminded her. "You can still lead a fulfilling human life, help to rebuild society for the others of this planet who do not have your knowledge."

Uriel's smile grew crueler as his blocky fingers closed over the vial, cutting off the glow. "I am afraid that is not an option. She will take her grace back up and join me, or I will inform Michael that she exists. You will not be able to hide her from him forever, and _when_ she is captured, she _will_ be punished."

I felt my teeth grinding in sheer frustration. Angels were such _dicks_. But could we ignore his statement that she'd worked with him before? One rotten angel in a newly-cleansed Host wouldn't spoil the whole barrel, not for a long, long, time. But two?

"Anna, catch." Gabriel raised a hand and faced his open palm at Uriel. The vial popped out of its cage of fingers, and she snagged it as it sailed through the air toward her.

Uriel's eyes went wide in sudden realization. "Gabriel," he breathed in a voice tinged with awe. Then his brow furrowed. "What are you doing to me?"

"Making sure you hold still while we sort ourselves out." I'd never seen so much disdain on his mobile face. He flexed the palm still pointed at Uriel, who stiffened like a board in response, face contorting with his futile efforts to resist.

Gabriel turned back to Anna as if it was no trouble at all to hold a member of the Host against their will. Maybe it wasn't. "Ball's in your court, honey. The way I see it, you have more options than this crow-ridden pile of goat droppings let on. I _can_ keep you hidden, and comfortably at that, even after _we_ leave."

Uriel gasped. Gabriel froze, and then let his shoulders droop as he realized what he'd just given away. If this world's Gabriel wanted to continue unmolested once we went home, we were going to have to go with Option D.

Looking at Gabriel's face, I could tell he'd known how this was going to end from the moment Uriel showed up, but just because he knew it was inevitable, it didn't make him feel any better about it.

"We can't," said Sam the Peacemaker into the ensuing silence, looking from face to impassive face in our party. Even Anna was grim and frowning. "As far as Michael's concerned, Uriel passed the test. He wouldn't welcome any vigilante-ism from us."

Gabriel gave him a smile, though it seemed a little forced. "Then maybe it's time we declared our welcome to be officially worn out. We're pretty much done here, right, nephew of mine?"

Uriel's jaw dropped at Jack's reluctant nod, though Gabriel's will kept him from making another sound.

I didn't want to be the party pooper, but I did have to bring up one last point before we brought Uriel to his conclusion. "What about Castiel? Shouldn't he at least know what we're plannin' before we gank this dude and make a fast exit from this universe?"

Our prisoner's eyes bounced around between us, confused and concerned as everyone nodded in reluctant agreement. I figured even with his imminent demise, Uriel didn't need to know just how closely Castiel was tied to us, so when I prayed for him to join us, I did it as discreetly as possible.

Gabriel was scowling. "I wouldn't mind running it past other me as well, but I can't trust this son of a pig not to go straight to Michael while I go find him."

"Well, if this is our grand finale, there's no reason to hold anything back," said Jack. A glowing line snapped into existence in front of him with startling suddenness. He'd gotten so much better at that. "Back in a flash." He took two steps forward and vanished, reappearing after about thirty seconds with the other Gabriel in tow.

"Never a dull moment with you guys," Alt-Gabriel said, taking in the tableau we presented. "Ah, Uriel. Couldn't just slip away quietly, huh?" He approached Anna, took her hand, patted it gently. He'd been in and out of the Haven over the past week as well. "Don't worry, honey. We won't let him spoil everything."

"But what if he's right?" Anna asked in a small voice. A flapping of invisible wings signaled Castiel's arrival as Jack closed his portal to Gabriel's safe place, but Anna was focused entirely on her decision. "What if I take up my grace again and remember that I'm your enemy?"

"That will not happen," announced Castiel, and Anna startled a bit, gaze bouncing between the trench-coated angel that had appeared before her and the flannel-clad one she'd come with.

"I know of the alliance he speaks of," Castiel continued, proving what a quick study he was when it came to snagging Cas's memories on the fly – or just that he'd been there a while, watching without being seen. "You confided in me before you Fell, and I do not believe you held anything back."

His eyes narrowed as he moved to stand in front of the frozen Uriel. "A simple non-aggression pact. You both agreed that you did not want to follow Michael's orders forever, but you did _not_ agree with the freeing of Lucifer. You assisted him in convincing several others to his cause, but you never truly joined it yourself."

The panic that lit behind Uriel's eyes showed that this was news to him, but Anna just seemed relieved.

Castiel glanced at his Gabriel, then gave the rest of us a look that dripped cynicism. "Did you have an exit strategy for this mess? Uriel can – and _will_ – make life very difficult for everyone present if allowed to leave with his current knowledge, but Michael will not…oh."

His dwindling innocence finally allowed him to make the last logical leap, and his face fell the slightest bit. "So this is it, then? You all will be leaving soon?"

The empty place in my gut, the one that Cas had been steadily filling, panged with a throbbing echo of loss. I didn't love this Castiel, but leaving him felt like abandoning a puppy. Like booting Cas out of the bunker to survive on his own all over again.

Cas took my hand without looking at me, rescuing me from drowning in the memory of that particular betrayal. "We do not have a choice, if Anna is to have hers. Once Uriel is dispatched, we will not have long before he is missed. Have either of you made your decision?"

He looked from his double to Anna and back again, and my stomach dropped in shock. "Castiel, you're thinking of exiling yourself?" I squeaked. I hadn't known.

He opened his mouth to reply but stopped and frowned. "This will not become easier with waiting." And then he whipped out his angel blade and plunged it into Uriel's chest before anyone could make a move to stop him.

Brightness flared out of Uriel's eyes a final time before they went blank forever, and the smoky shadow of his wings draped itself across the waving grass. We gave him a moment of silence, out of respect for Castiel's act if not for Uriel himself, and then Jack stepped up and all evidence of Uriel's existence vanished in little golden sparkles as he scattered his molecules via portals.

"Does Heaven have a way to detect when an angel dies?" asked Sam. "If so, I recommend we be inside the Haven when they figure out what we did."

The Gabriels gave him twin frowns. "Michael will have felt it, but he won't have a way to tell who or where," said Alt-Gabriel. "Process of elimination will bring him 'round to you-all pretty quickly, but Anna can't go there just yet, not while her grace is …" He broke off, waved his arms around as if that could help him locate the right word, then tried, "…disembodied?"

Our Gabriel nodded. "No telling what Bobby's wacky wards will do to it. Not to rush you or anything, honey, but if you could reach a decision in the next ten seconds, that would save us all a ton of trouble."

Anna looked down at the glowing vial resting on her palm. When she looked up again, she was smiling. "Let's do it. Give me back my wings." She smirked at Alt-Gabriel, then added, "…Roomie."

He beamed back at her. "And a welcome one, after all this time alone! Everyone with mortal eyes, please cover them immediately, unless you want to lose them. Anna, this is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me."

"Jack, that means you, too! This is not somethin' we want to experiment with," I yelled before burying my face in Cas's shoulder. Our mingled scents on his shirt distracted me while light flared around us and Anna screamed in agony.

It seemed to go on forever, but it was probably less than a minute before Anna, a bit hoarse now, called an all-clear.

"And now we should _definitely_ go," said Gabriel. Cas's arm tightened around my waist, and when I opened my eyes, we were all standing on the hill above the Haven again, as if by prior agreement.

"He might not be able to pinpoint where one of us dies, but when the angel bell rings, he usually comes running. It's a skill unique to him, and uniquely annoying," the other Gabriel added.

Jack was frowning at the horizon. "Do you want to say your goodbyes now? Or would you all like to come inside the wards for a bit, before Heaven's judgement arrives?"

Anna smiled at him and started walking. "I have all the time in the world to get used to having wings again, and sorting through my old memories," she called over her shoulder. "I can give it back up for a little bit to say farewell to the people who saved my life. Call it the final wish of an imminent fugitive?"

We all startled into motion, jogging after her and keeping up a suppressed-panic-mild-hysteria trot until we were safely inside.

Mary was sitting at the table with her mug of tea again, much like she had been the first time we brought Anna home. "What now?" she asked, eying the group and taking in everyone's shock-glazed eyes.

"There was a complication," Anna said, twitching her shoulders in an unconscious mimic of Castiel on his previous visits. He'd gotten a lot better at hiding how uncomfortable the wards made him, but losing access to your grace wasn't something he could get used to, and it didn't seem to be any easier for her.

Mom, of course, noticed it right away. "You're an angel again?" she asked. She'd never said anything, not wanting to influence Anna's very personal decision, but I could tell that she'd sort of wanted Anna to hang around for a bit longer. As much as she loved her boys, we weren't so good at girl talk.

Anna nodded, and gifted Mary with a beautiful smile. "But I won't forget your kindness to a poor traumatized human girl. I'll come back to visit and help out when I can, even though I can't hope to repay you."

Sam frowned. "But we have to go. Today. Mom won't-"

"She's not coming with us, Sammy," I interrupted him. The room went dead silent as everyone's stunned gazes bounced back and forth between my brother and me. Mom looked stunned, too. I hadn't discussed it with her, and it looked like Bobby hadn't either, so me coming down on this side of an argument we didn't have the time to have was understandably off-putting.

"What?" Sam recovered enough to be angry. "Of course she is! She can't stay here-"

"Where she has a safe home and a strong partner and a shiny new world to rebuild and defend?" I interrupted again. "Why the Hell not? What's back at home that's so great?"

"Her _family!_ "

I shrugged. "We'll come visit, if Jack's okay with it. She's made a new family here, anyway."

Sam started to retort, but then took a look around the room. Bobby hovered in a doorway, summoned by the shouting but not wanting to intrude. This world's angels, even the freshly minted one, gave him encouraging nods, and Gabriel put his hands on Mom's shoulders.

"We'll take care of her, Samwich, don't worry. She can be happy here."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Mary asked, but behind the annoyance in her voice, there was a tired sort of relief. She didn't even bother shrugging Gabe's hands off.

I went over and straddled the bench seat, facing her. "Of course you do. But don't make this decision based on what you think _we_ want." I touched her cheek, skin soft under my rough callouses, and my eyes welled up. "You _deserve_ the chance to actually _live,_ not just _exist_ , and that's what you've been forcin' yourself to do ever since we got you back."

I glanced over at Cas – we'd never settled the disagreement I was about to bring up, but that would have to wait. "When Sam and I made our deal with that reaper, to escape from that government lockup, and she said she was leavin' with a Winchester or there'd be _consequences_ , you were gonna volunteer, weren't you? If Cas hadn't intervened, we would've lost you right there."

Her eyes were suspiciously shiny as well, and after a few beats she could only manage a quick nod as a response.

"So live here. No one has to lose anyone, it'll be just like you moved to a different country. Hell, we can even be pen pals, if Jack doesn't deem it a frivolous use of his powers."

I glanced over at the kid. He wasn't making any attempt to corral the tears that were sluicing down his cheeks, but he was grinning, too, and he gave me a vigorous nod.

Mary was wavering, wanting to give in but hating herself for it. "Does it have to be so soon? What did Sam mean, _today?_ "

"Our big brother missed a miscreant," said the Gabriel that was still standing behind her. "Uriel got to Anna's grace first, and then he knew too much to be allowed to leave. Unfortunately, with the war being over and all, any angelic death is going to raise some serious red flags."

"Not to mention reinstating Anna, here," our Gabe threw in. "The only way we all get out of this alive and _not_ under Heaven's scrutiny for the rest of our existences is for us off-worlders to leave now while Castiel tells Michael that Anna went with us. _If_ Castiel doesn't decide to bug out, too, that is."

We all turned to Castiel, but he was already shaking his head. "No. I can better protect everyone if I keep my place. What?"

Every face in the room – even the non-human ones – had assumed a half-pained expression at his decision, and he was having difficulty reading us. If it had been Cas, I would've been the first to launch into the Free Will lecture, but this one wasn't mine to fix.

Cas stepped in for me. "What you said is technically correct, but it is risky – Michael probably thinks you a sympathizer already, and after today…"

He trailed off, no doubt thinking of the nonchalance with which Castiel had ganked a fellow angel, consequences be damned. "Do you think any here could live with your sacrifice," he started again, "if this action is not what you truly want? This existence is _yours_ , and you cannot continue to live it solely for the benefit of others." He gave his double a gentle smile. "However, it is possible to do both. Is that the case here?"

Castiel smiled back, pleased at being understood. "Yes. I have selfish reasons for protecting the beings in this room – I will need them when I do decide to walk away from my brothers and sisters. Until that day comes, I will keep Michael's faith. With Uriel gone, I am the only one who can detect when Jack opens a portal. He needs me."

There was a beat of silence as we all realized that that really should have been obvious, if anyone'd taken the time to think about it at all. Castiel could sense when Jack used his power; we'd figured that out ages ago. He kept showing up whenever Jack did something big, claiming that Michael sent him, and I'd just accepted that, thinking _of course_ angels could feel Jack punching holes in the fabric of space-time.

Turns out he'd been reporting on us all along, getting sent to us on official business instead of sneaking away and risking getting caught. It was such a genius blend of angelic rule-following and human guile, it left us all gaping.

"Color _me_ impressed, Cassie," said Alt-Gabriel. Even with everyone else in the room rendered speechless, Gabriel always managed to find something to say. "Well done. And yes, Anna and I will welcome you with open arms if you ever need to get away, even if it's just temporary. I'll show you where the Batcave is when everything's over."

"And you-all will always be welcome here, too," Bobby threw in gruffly, stunning us all further. "If you don't mind the wards. Never thought I'd be sayin' it to a pack of angels, but it's gonna get damned quiet 'round here with just Mary and me rattlin' around."

He crossed the room with sure strides, nudged Alt-Gabriel aside with a gentle elbow and took his place at Mom's back, one hand resting at the base of her neck. She gave him a warm smile over her shoulder, and I suddenly felt like an intruder on a private moment.

"When you do drop by, _knock first_ ," our Gabriel hissed as an exaggerated aside behind his hand, and Mom's cheeks flushed pink. Even Bobby looked a touch self-conscious, but I'd never seen the man blush before and he probably wasn't going to start now, even with both Gabriels favoring him with mirror leers.

He gave me a grateful nod over her blond head, and his approval gave me a serious case of the warm and fuzzies. It's hard to think of yourself as a terrible person when _Bobby Singer_ respects you.

Looking at the pair of them, it hit me hard that we'd be leaving them behind in just a few minutes. "Sam?" I asked. He was looking at them, too, eyes soft, but his gaze snapped to me in response. "Any further objections?"

He made a suspicious sniffling noise and shook his head.

"Mom? Are you gonna make the right choice here?"

She placed a delicate hand over Bobby's on her neck, paused, then nodded.

And then every human and part-human in the room openly embraced the chick-flick-ness of the moment, with the hugging and the crying and the murmurs of how much everyone loved everyone and how much everyone would miss everyone. Old Me would've hated it, but Better Adjusted Me was smiling through my tears at the novelty of saying goodbye to someone that wasn't dying.

All of my life, when people left me behind, it was because they were either too angry to stay or because they were dead. The sweet certainty that these people were sad to see me go – and that I would definitely be seeing them again some day – was a bittersweet ache in my gut.

The angels stood in a little clump, saying their own goodbyes. Had they been the regular sort of angel, we would have baffled them – and made them very uncomfortable – with our flamboyant display of human emotion, but these were no ordinary angels. They'd been Winchestered, and now could never be the same.

When the humans were done with each other, we turned to that knot of slightly damaged beings and started all over again, though we toned it down a little. Both Gabriels, of course, toned it back up several notches, draping themselves over each other and Sam and wailing in a comical fashion.

Or it would have been comical, if it hadn't been apparent that at least a small part of both of them was completely serious. Gabriel had never Fallen, but he'd made more of an effort than any of his siblings to understand humans and now he was paying the price.

I gave Anna a tight hug, feeling the power that her petite frame now contained thrum in response to her emotions.

"Thank you for everything," she murmured. "Even the stuff you did for the other me, _your_ me." She pulled back enough to see my face and gave me a decidedly non-angelic smirk. " _Especially_ that stuff."

My mouth dropped open. "How did you…? You don't even have her memories!"

Her face grew serious. "You boys changed all the rules, when Jack started popping in and out of universes. I think a bit of her rode in on your Castiel and Gabriel. They _were_ dead as well, yes? I don't have everything, but there are bits and pieces floating around in my grace that I _know_ aren't me."

She placed a hand on my upper arm, mirroring the mark I'd had when our Anna had seen me in just my skin. " _This_ , for example. How would I know about this, if I didn't have some of _her_?"

Cas appeared at my side as if he'd popped there, even though his wings didn't work inside the Haven. His fingers slipped into mine and squeezed hard, though his face retained its pleasant expression. Mmm, Jealous Cas was _hot_.

Castiel moved in on my other side, drawn by my horrid lack of self-control, and Anna gave me a knowing grin and one last peck on the cheek before moving off to sit with Mom while we finished up.

"Keep an eye on her, will ya?" I told him, squeezing Cas's hand back and ignoring the way his expression grew slightly sheepish. "She knows things that this Universe's Anna shouldn't, so maybe there's a leak somewhere? A small one?"

Castiel tilted his head, considering it, but I was ready this time, focusing hard on death and being sad to keep from broadcasting my attraction to that particular action. "It would have to be a complicated leak," he said, giving me a small grin to show that my efforts had not gone unnoticed. "From here to your world to our lady's realm through it? Though, we did not satisfactorily determine whether every universe had their own lady or if she had her own realm outside of all of them."

I shared a glance with Cas. "Could this be your lady, helpin' Anna out? Givin' her somethin' to remember us by as she heads into exile?"

His eyes grew wide, and then a glowing smile spread across his face. "That would explain many things. Particularly, how my counterpart here has gotten so much from _you_. I _knew_ it could not be explained by simple grace transfer!"

Castiel was starting to smile as well. "If so, then I am glad for it. Both of you have given me many gifts, and your absence will ache, but the knowledge of my lady's favor – and her approval – will be some comfort until your next visit."

"We _will_ be back, though maybe not too soon since Michael will probably be pissed at us for a while. Don't snitch on Jack's next portal in, yeah?"

He looked back and forth between me and Cas for a second, and then his eyes welled up, spilling moisture down his cheeks, much like the first day we'd met him. He seemed less confused this time, but still sort of in awe about it, putting a hand to his face and staring at the wetness on his fingers.

Cas gripped his shoulder, drawing his gaze. "Feel if you must, brother, but do not Fall. Not yet. Not over this." He shot me a smirk, including me in their little moment. "I do not believe Dean could survive the guilt of inciting me to Fall again."

"Shut up," I grumbled, falling back on my standard retort to hide the fact that my own eyes were filling up for the tenth time in ten minutes. "This one's at least a little _your_ fault, too. He's a team effort."

That managed to draw a wet-sounding chuckle from Castiel, which I took as a victory. And then the Gabriels were mobbing us with hugs and more tears and everything sort of blurred for a bit, and then we were all standing outside, carrying the stuff we'd packed in and saying our final goodbyes.

"Six months," Mom said. "I want to either get a letter or see one of your faces in exactly six months or I swear I won't he held responsible for my actions."

Sam and I exchanged grins as we engulfed her tiny figure in our arms one last time. She may not have been born a Winchester, but she had the attitude – not to mention the casual disregard for consequences – down to a frickin' tee.

Bobby offered us respectful handshakes when Jack traded him to us in exchange for Mary, but of course we ignored that in favor of more back-pounding embraces. "You boys be safe out there," he said gruffly. "I'd be real proud, 'f I were that _other_ me. Hell, _I'm_ proud. Don't you worry 'bout yer ma, I'll keep her safe. She'll keep _me_ safe, too."

"Thanks, Bobby," I said, squeezing his shoulder, trying to force myself to let him go again. It was extremely difficult. "We'll see you around."

And then the whole group – native angels included – trudged off up the hill and left the pair of them standing there, waving a hand every time one of us glanced back.

I moved to walk beside this world's Gabriel for a minute after we crested the hill and left them behind. "Did you, uh, move things along back there? Get us out the door faster?"

He gave me his best attempt at an innocent face, but his golden eyes shone in suppressed mirth and after a few seconds he gave up and he shrugged. "I didn't want to rush y'all, since you-all are leaving and I get to stay, but Big Brother is definitely watching us by now."

He felt the rest of the group's attention shift to him but didn't bask in it like he would have under different circumstances. "That's right, kids. We're going to have to time this properly, and you, Castiel, need to have your story straight when the rest of us vanish. Speaking of the rest of us, aren't we missing someone?"

He raised an eyebrow at Jack, who grinned back. "I called him when we left the wards. He'll join us when he finishes tying up loose ends."

I was lost for a brief second, and then I realized that of course he meant Lucifer. In the rush of Anna's reinstatement and our hurried goodbyes, I'd managed to forget the entire reason we'd come here in the first place.

"If he's watching," said Anna, scanning the skies as she walked, "why doesn't he just show up right now and snatch me? That's more in line with what I remember about him than just waiting around."

"He's a purist, our Michael," Gabriel replied. "When we all go back to our universe and stop getting our chocolate in his peanut butter, he can have his world of black-and-white rules back. Until we do, it's hard for him to label your existence as 'wrong.'"

"Plus, Lucy's showing up soon," this world's Gabriel added. "It'll be three archangels – plus two regular angels and one abstention – against one, and even if he didn't mind those odds, he _just_ settled a war. Probably doesn't want to kick off another one quite yet."

Castiel gave Gabriel his stolen smirk. "The abstention is me, I assume?"

Gabriel shrugged back. "Well, yeah. He knows you're still on his side, but even he wouldn't force you to fight your own double. He's not a cruel being, just a righteous one. So when we've all gone, and he shows up with his regular impeccably dramatic timing, you can tell him the truth: yes, you knew about Anna, but us three archangels made you keep quiet about her until she was no longer Michael's problem."

"Three archangels? Am I being included in something without my consent?"

Even though we were walking through broad daylight, Lucifer still managed to materialize from the shadows. Adrenaline spurted into my system, an automatic reaction after a decade of the sound of that voice being followed immediately by an attempt on my life.

While I tried to chill myself out with some deep breathing, Gabriel beamed in greeting. "Speaking of impeccably dramatic timing! Just getting our game plan together about Anna, here. You remember Anna, right?"

Lucifer flashed her a dismissive once-over, then did a double-take and took another more thorough look. "It's coming back to me," he purred. "What do we have here? Another little angel all alone inside her very own human skin?"

Anna's red hair glinted in the sun, set off by her pale skin and the whites of her too-wide eyes as he shifted closer. I'd never seen her look so much like a deer caught in the headlights, but I remembered how complimentary our Anna had been about him when we'd caught up with her in Freyja's realm, so this had to be the equivalent of meeting a favorite celebrity who was known for being an asshole to his fans.

"Do we have one of her at home?" he asked out loud, keeping up eye contact that bordered on menacing as we trudged along the path.

"Ours got disassembled by Michael a while back," said Gabriel, making sure to enunciate clearly for anyone listening from afar. "She'll fit right in. Is this far enough?"

We all stopped walking, and Jack looked back in the direction of the Haven, judging. "Feels like we're clear," he said. A golden line sliced downward in front of the group, a sparking seam where two realities met. The light of it played across his grim face. "That means this is goodbye, then."

This is where the timing got tricky. We all said our farewells to Castiel – Cas and I snuck in some physical affection, leaving him with an adorably baffled look – and then he stood back a bit, forlorn, as the rest of us sorted ourselves out.

"You're going to love the new reality," said our Gabriel to his counterpart and Anna. "It's just like the old one, but better."

"Every place is better, with friends," Alt-Gabriel agreed cheerily, and we all groaned. Sam managed to sneak in a final squeeze of Alt-Gabe's arm before Jack's portal whirled us away.

* * *

 _Epilogue_

 _The final spark of the rift fizzled out into thin air, and Castiel felt the last vestiges of Jack the Nephilim's magic vanish with it. For a fraction of a second his senses stretched themselves thin, reflexively searching as far as they could for any sign of the group that had dropped out of the sky and changed his life, but he chided himself at his own futility and reined them back in, waiting for the inevitable next step._

" _Castiel!" His name – in Michael's most intimidating voice – cracked through the sky like heat lightning, heralding his brother's imminent arrival. He would have liked Dean and Gabriel to witness it, just so that he could enjoy the sardonic rolling of their eyes, but his memories of their time together would have to remain tucked away, close to his heart, his most precious secret._

 _He allowed himself to hope that his Gabriel and their Anna had reached their hiding spot safely, offering a brief prayer to a lady he had not met – not yet – that Michael had not noticed them flying away as the others went through the portal. Then he tried to make himself focus on Michael, on this conversation that they were about to have, which would determine if he was to be punished or rewarded for his recent behavior._

" _What have you done?" his brother demanded, now standing before him with arms crossed over his chest. Castiel took another distracted fraction of a second to examine his brother's "meat suit" with new eyes, slotting it into the memories he had gleaned from Dean._

 _John Winchester had been dead when Michael had raised him and asked to be invited in, as recompense. In all the millennia that Castiel had existed, he had never known Michael to cede a single iota of control to whomever was his host, but John Winchester's reaction to seeing the woman he had loved had been … edifying._

 _His own relationships with his long string of hosts – up to and including Jimmy Novak – had always been distant ones, for all that their consciousnesses slumbered, dreaming, a heartbeat away from his own. Jimmy suddenly awakening and stealing back control of his limb had been a shock, and Castiel was nowhere near as powerful as Michael, so he could only guess at the power of John Winchester's love for Mary._

Love _was a concept he would be content to spend the remainder of his existence contemplating. He had thought he had known its meaning, taught to 'love' the humans by his Father's laws, but what he now knew … it was beyond anything he could have conceived of on his own._

 _His wandering attention, minute as the interval had been on a human scale, did not escape Michael's notice, and the righteous glare on the young face his brother wore faded. "Are you quite well, Castiel? Have they done something to you?"_

 _Castiel blinked at him, a human response he'd picked up, before remembering to bow his head to show respect. "It is difficult to define, brother," he said to his feet. "I know that I should have reported the presence of the Fallen Anna to you at once, but … I found myself unable to."_

'Lyin' works best if you stick as close to the truth as possible,' _Dean's voice growled in his head, an echo of a memory._ 'Easier to keep track of everythin' that way.'

'He's an angel, Dean,' _retorted the exasperated voice of his other self, the one who had made all those difficult choices and managed to reap the greatest possible reward._ 'He is not likely to _forget_ anything.'

'But Cas, you're _really_ bad at lyin', I'm just tryin' to help him.'

Love, _thought Castiel again, unable to stop his lips from curling up ever so slightly at the corners._

 _Michael was starting to look concerned, a furrow forming between his heavy eyebrows. "Are you having a reaction to the absence of the others who share your grace? You do not seem to be entirely … present."_

" _That … seems a logical conclusion," Castiel responded, startled that his brother had figured out his problem before he had even noticed he was having one. "I was assuming that this empty feeling was simply loss, but …"_

 _He trailed off, letting Michael read whatever he wanted to from his sudden silence while he explored this new idea. Over the past six months, he had become accustomed to the gentle tidal pull of his other self, their shared grace pulling them along like the moon tugging at the ocean, but now he was unmoored, adrift. Alone._

 _When this had all started, he had been afraid that he would lose himself, become something unfamiliar overnight, but even with all of their differences and choices, Castiel was still Castiel, and so was Castiel._

 _He couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him on the heels of_ that _thought, and now Michael looked downright alarmed._

" _Maybe you should take a break," Michael said, cupping Castiel's cheek and tilting his face up so that he could peer into Castiel's eyes. Eyes that seemed to be on the verge of leaking, again, which didn't help his case. "I relied on you too heavily while the visitors were here. See to your own needs for … for a week. Then report back for debriefing."_

 _The lewd smirk that Dean Winchester would acquire if asked to 'debrief' flitted through his brain, filling in for the absence of its owner in Castiel's reality, and he laughed one more time, and then his eyes overflowed._

" _I apologize for my lack of control, brother," he managed after a deep breath, swiping his tan sleeve across the cheek that wasn't still in Michael's custody. "I've never …_ felt _like this before."_

 _And that was Father's honest truth._


End file.
